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BEAUCHAMFS    CAREER 


BY 


GEORGE    MEREDITH 


AUTHOR'S      EDITION 


BOSTON 

ROBERTS     BROTHERS 

1892 


Presswork  by  John  Wilson  and  Son, 
University  Press. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

vm. 

IX. 
X. 

XI. 
XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 


XVII. 

XVIII. 

^IX. 


v/ 
XX. 

XXI. 


XXII. 
XXIII. 
XXIV. 

XXV. 
XXVI. 


Page 

THE    CHAMPION    OF    HIS    COUNTRY 1 

UNCLE,    NEPHEW,    AND    ANOTHER Vl 

CONTAINS     BARONIAL     VIEWS      OF     THE      PRESENT 

TIME 20 

A    GLIMPSE    OF    NEVIL    IN    ACTION           80 

RENEE 38 

LOVE    IN    VENICE 43 

AN   AWAKENING    FOR    IJOTH           46 

A    NIGHT    ON    THE    ADRIATIC 55 

MORNING    AT    SEA    UNDER    THE    ALPS          ....  64 

A    SINGULAR    COUNCIL    ..........  68 

CAPTAIN    BASKELETT     ..........  74 

AN    INTERVIEW  WITH  THE    INFAMoUs^    DR.  SHRAP- 
NEL         88 

A    SUPERFINE    CONSCIENCE 9,9 

THE  LEADING  ARTICLE  AND  MR.  TIMOTHY  TUKBOT  104 

CECILIA    HALKETT 110 

A      PARTIAL     DISPLAY     OF      BEAUCHAMP      IN      HIS 

COLOURS 125 

HIS    FRIEND    AND    FOE 130 

CONCERNING    THE    ACT    OF    CANVASSING          .              •  141 
LORD       PALMET,      AND      CERTAIN      ELECTORS      OF 

BEVISHAM 146 

A   DAY    AT    ITCHINCOPE 163 

THE    QUESTION    AS    TO    THE    EXANIMATION  OF  THE 
WHIGS,  AND  THE    FINE    BLOW    STRUCK  BY  MR. 

EVERARD    ROMFREY          175 

THE    DRIVE    INTO    BEVISHAM 183 

TOURDESTELLE            IHl 

HIS    HOLIDAY 198 

THE    ADVENTURE    OF    THE    BOAT 208 

MR.    BLACKBURN    TUCKHAM          225 


CONTENTS. 


Ohafter 
XXVII. 
XXVIII. 


XXX. 
XXXI. 


XXXIII. 

XXXIV. 

XXXV. 

XXXVI. 

XXXVII. 

XXXVIII. 

XXXIX. 

XL. 

XLI. 

XLII. 

XLIII. 

XLIV. 

XLV. 

XL  VI. 

XLVII. 

XLVIII. 

XLIX. 

L. 

LI. 

LII. 

LIII. 

LIV. 

LV. 

LVI. 


Page 

A  SHORT  SIDELOOK  AT  THE  ELECTIOxV  .  .  .  234 
TOUCHING     A     YOUNG     LADY'S     HEART     AND     HER 

INTELLECT 238 

THE    EPISTLE    OF    DR.    SHRAPNEL    TO    COMMANDER 

BEAUCHAMP 253 

THE    BAITING    OF    DR.    SHRAPNEL 264 

SHOWING     A     CHIVALROrS     GENTLEMAN     SET     IN 

MOTION 279 

AN      EFFORT     TO     CONQUER     CECILIA      IN      BEAU- 

CHAMP'S   FASHION 28:2 

THE    FIRST    ENCOUNTER    AT    8TEYNHAM           .       .       .  294 

THE    FACE    OF    RENEE           303 

THE  RIDE  IN  THE  WRONG  DIRECTION  ....  309 
PURSUIT    OF    THE    APOLOGY    OF    MR.    ROMFREY   TO 

DR.    SHRAPNEL 316 

CECILIA    CONQUERED 328 

LORD    AVONLEY 340 

BETWEEN    BEAUCHAMP    AND    CECILIA         ....  348 

A    TRIAL    OF    HIM 357 

A    LAME    VICTORY 368 

THE    TWO    PASSIONS 373 

THE  EARL  OF  ROMFREY  AND  THE  COUNTESS  .  387 
THE  NEPHEWS  OF  THE  EARL,  AND  ANOTHER  EXHI- 
BITION OF  THE  TWO  PASSIONS  IN  BEAUCHAMP  395 

A    LITTLE    PLOT    AGAINST    CECILIA 405 

AS    IT    MIGHT    HAVE    BEEN    FORESEEN        ....  422 

THE    REFUSAL    OF    HIM 429 

OF  THE  TRIAL  AWAITING  THE    EARL    OF    ROMFREY  437 

A    FABRIC    OF    BARONIAL    DESPOTISM    CRUMBLES    .  450 

AT    THE    COTTAGE    ON    THE    COMMON 45<3 

IN   THE   NIGHT 4()4 

QUESTION    OF     A     PILGRIMAGE    AND     AN     ACT     OF 

PENANCE 467 

THE    APOLOGY    TO    DR.    SHRAPNEL 478 

THE    FRUITS    OF    THE    APOLOGY 482 

WITHOUT    LOVE          489 

THE    LAST    OF    NEVIL    BEAUCHAMP 494 


BEAUCHAAIFS  CAEEER 


CHAPTER  I, 

THE    CHAMPION    OF    HIS    COUNTRT. 

When  young-  Nevil  Beauchamp  was  throwing"  off  his  mid- 
shipman's jacket  for  a  holiday  in  the  garb  of  peace,  we  had 
across  Channel  a  host  of  dreadful  military  ofhcers  flashing 
swords  at  lis  for  some  critical  observations  of  onrs  upon 
their  sovereign,  threatening  Afric's  fires  and  savagery.  The 
case  occurred  in  old  days  now  and  again,  sometimes,  upon 
imagined  provocation,  more  furiously  than  at  others.  We 
were  unarmed,  and  the  'spectacle  was  distressing.  We  had 
done  nothing  except  to  speak  our  minds  according  to  the 
habit  of  the  free,  and  such  an  explosion  appeared  as  irra- 
tional and  excessive  as  that  of  a  powder-magazine  in  reply 
to  nothing  more  than  the  light  of  a  spark.  It  was  known 
that  a  valorous  General  of  the  Algerian  wars  proposed  to 
make  a  clean  march  to  the  capital  of  the  British  empire  at 
the  head  of  ten  thousand  men  ;  which  seems  a  small  quantity 
to  think  much  about,  but  they  wore  wide  red  breeches  blown 
out  by  Fame,  big  as  her  cheeks,  and  a  ten  thousand  of  that 
sort  would  never  think  of  retreating.  Their  spectral  advance 
on  quaking  London  through  Kentish  hop-gardens,  Sussex 
coi-n-fields^or  by  the  pleasant  hills  of  Surrey,  after  a  gym- 
nastic leap  over  the  riband  of  salt  water,  haunted  many 
pillows.  And  now  those  horrid  shouts  of  the  legions  of 
C^sar,  crying  to  the  inheritor  of  an  invading  name  to  lead 
them  against  us,  as  the  origin  of  his  title  had  led  the  army 
of  Gaul  of  old  gloriously,  scared  sweet  sleep.     We  saw  them 


in  imagination  lining  the- opposite  shore ;  eagle  and  standard- 
bearers,  and  galUfers,  brandishing  their  fowls  and  their  ban- 
ners in  a  manner  to  frighten  the  decorum  of  the  universe. 
Where  were  our  men  ? 

The  returns  of  the  census  of  our  population  were  oppress- 
ively satisfactory,  and  so  was  the  condition  of  our  youth. 
"We  could  row  and  ride  and  fish  and  shoot,  and  breed 
largely:  we  were  athletes  with  a  fine  history  and' a  full 
purse :  we  had  first-rate  sporting  guns,  unrivalled  park- 
hacks  and  hunters,  promising  babies  to  carry  on  the  renown 
of  England  to  the  next  generation,  and  a  wonderful  Press, 
and  a  Constitution  the  highest  reach  of  practical  human 
sagacity.  But  wdiere  were  our  armed  men  ?  where  our  grejit 
artillery?  where  our  proved  caj^tains,  to  resist  a  sudden  sharp 
trial  of  the  national  mettle?  Where  Avas  the  first  line  of 
England's  defence,  her  navy  ?  These  were  questions,  and 
Ministers  w^ere  called  upon  to  answer  them.  The  Press 
answered  them  boldly,  with  the  appalling  statement  that  we 
had  no  navy  and  no  army.  At  the  most  we  could  muster  a 
few  old  ships,  a  couple  of  exiDcrimental  vessels  of  war,  and 
twenty-five  thousand  soldiers  indifferently  weaponed. 

We  were  in  fact  as  naked  to  the  Imperial  foe  as  the 
merely  painted  Britons. 

This  being  apprehended,  by  the  aid  of  our  own  shortness 
of  figures  and  the  agitated  ini.ages  of  the  red-breeched  only 
waiting  the  signal  to  jnmp  and  be  at  us,  there  ensued  a 
curious  exhibition  that  would  be  termed,  in  simple  language, 
writing  to  the  newspapers,  for  it  took  the  outward  form  of 
letters  :  in  reality,  it  was  the  deliberate  saddling  of  our 
ancient  nightmare  of  Invasion,  putting  the  postillion  on  her, 
and  trotting  her  along  the  high-road  with  a  winding  horn  to 
rouse  old  Panic.  Panic  we  will,  for  the  sake  of  convenience, 
assume  to  be  of  the  feminine  gender  and  a  spinster,  though 
properly  she  should  be  classed  with  the  large  mixed  race  of 
mental  and  moral  neuters  which  are  the  bulk  of  comfortable 
nations.  She  turned  in  her  bed  at  first  like  the  sluggard  of 
the  venerable  hymnist  :  but  once  fairly  awakened,  she 
directed  a  stare  toward  the  terrific  foreign  contortionists, 
and  became  in  an  instant  all  stormy  nightcap  and  fingers 
starving  for  the  bell-rope.  Forthwith  she  burst  into  a  series 
of  shrieks,  howls,  and  high  piercing  notes  that  caused  even 
the  parliamentaiy  Opposition,  in  the  heat  of  an  assault  on  a 


THE  CHAMPION  OF  HTS  COUNTRY.  3 

parsimonioiis  Goyernment,  to  abandon  its  temporary  advan- 
tage and  be  still  awliile.  Yet. she  likewise  performed  her 
part  with  a  certain  deliberation  and  method,  as  if  aware  that 
it  was  a  part  she  had  to  play  in  the  composition  of  a  singular 
people.  She  did  a  little  mischief  by  dropping  on  the  stock- 
markets  ;  in  other  respects  she  was  harmless,  and,  inasmuch 
as  she  established  a  subject  for  conversation,  useful. 

Then,  lest  she  should  have  been  taken  too  seriously,  the 
Press,  which  had  kindled,  proceeded  to  extinguish  her  with 
the  formidable  engines  called  leading  articles,  which  fling 
fire  or  water,  as  the  occasion  may  require.  It  turned  out 
that  we  had  ships  ready  for  launching,  and  certain  regi- 
ments coming  home  from  India  ;  hedges  we  had,  and  a  spirited 
body  of  yeomanry ;  and  we  had  pluck  and  patriotism,  the 
father  and  mother  of  volunteers  innumerable.  Things  were 
not  so  bad. 

Panic,  however,  sent  up  a  plaintive  whine.  What  country 
had  anything  like  our  treasures  to  defend  ? — countless  riches, 
beautiful  women,  an  inviolate  soil  !  True,  and  it  must  be 
done.  Ministers  w^ere  authoritatively  summoned  to  set  to 
work  immediately.  They  replied  that  they  had  been  at 
work  all  the  time,  and  were  at  work  now.  They  could 
assure  the  country  that,  though  they  flourished  no  trum- 
pets, they  positively  guaranteed  the  safety  of  our  virgins 
and  coffers. 

Then  the  people,  rather  ashamed,  abused  the  Press  for 
unreasonably  disturbing  them.  The  Press  attacked  old 
Panic  and  stripped  her  naked.  Panic,  with  a  desolate 
scream,  arraigned  the  parliamentary  Opposition  for  ha\  ing 
inflated  her  to  serve  base  party  purposes.  The  Opposition 
challenged  the  allegations  of  Government,  pointed  to  the 
trimness  of  army  and  navy  during  its  term  of  office,  and 
proclaimed  itself  watch-dog  of  the  country,  which  is  at  all 
events  an  office  of  a  kind.  Hereupon  the  ambassador  of 
yonder  ireful  soldiery  let  fall  a  word,  saying,  by  the  faith  of 
his  Master,  there  was  no  necessity  for  watch-dogs  to  bark ; 
an  ardent  and  a  reverent  army  had  but  fancied  its  beloved 
chosen  Chief  insulted  ;  the  Chief  and  chosen  held  them  in  ; 
he,  despite  obloquy,  discerned  our  merits  and  esteemed  us. 

So,  then.  Panic,  or  what  rem-ained  of  her,  was  put  to  bed 
again.  The  Opposition  retired  into  its  kennel  growling. 
The   People   coughed   like   a  man  of  two  minds,   doubting 

B  2 


4  BEAUCHAMP  S  CAREER. 

wlietlier  lie  has  been  divinely  inspired  or  has  cut  a 
ridiculous  figure.  The  Press  interpreted  the  cough  as  a 
warning  to  Government ;  and  Government  launched  a  big 
ship  with  hurrahs,  and  ordered  the  recruiting-sergeant  to  be 
seen  conspicuously. 

And  thus  we  obtained  a  moderate  reinforcement  of  our 
arms. 

It  was  not  arrived  at  by  connivance  all  round,  though 
there  was  a  look  of  it.  Certainly  it  did  not  come  of  acci- 
dent, though  there  was  a  look  of  that  as  well.  Nor  do  we 
explain  much  of  the  secret  by  attributing  it  to  the  working 
of  a  complex  machinery.  The  housewife's  remedy  of  a  good 
shaking  for  the  invalid  who  will  not  arise  and  dance  away 
his  gout,  partly  illustrates  the  action  of  the  Press  upon  the 
country :  and  perhaps  the  country  shaken  may  suffer  a  com- 
parison with  the  family  chariot  of  the  last  century,  built  in 
a  previous  one,  commodious,  furnished  agreeably,  being  all 
that  the  inside  occupants  could  require  of  a  conveyance, 
until  the  report  of  horsemen  crossing  the  heath  at  a  gallop 
sets  it  dishonourably  creaking  and  complaining  in  rapid 
motion,  and  the  squire  curses  his  miserly  purse  that  would 
not  hire  a  guard,  and  his  dame  says,  I  told  you  so  ! — Fool- 
hardy man,  to  suppose,  because  we  have  constables  in  tlie 
streets  of  big  cities,  we  have  dismissed  the  highwayman  to 
limbo.  And  here  he  is,  and  he  will  cost  you  fifty  times  (he 
sum  you  would  have  laid  out  to  keep  him  at  a  mile's 
respectful  distance !  But  see,  the  wretch  is  bowing :  he 
smiles  at  our  carriage,  and  tells  the  coachman  that  he 
remembers  he  has  been  our  guest,  and  really  thinks  we  need 
not  go  so  fast.  He  leaves  word  for  you,  sir,  on  your  peril 
to  denounce  him  on  another  occasion  from  the  magisterial 
Bench,  for  that  albeit  lie  is  a  gentleman  of  the  road,  he  hits 
a  mission  to  right  society,  and  succeeds  legitimately  to  tnat 
bold  Good  Robin  Hood  who  fed  the  poor. — Fresh  from  this 
polite  encounter,  the  squire  vows  money  for  his  personal 
protection :  and  he  determines  to  speak  his  opinion  of 
Sherwood's  latest  captain  as  loudly  as  evei*.  That  he  will, 
I  do  not  say.     It  might  involve  a  lai-ge  sum  pei-  annum. 

Similes  are  very  well  in  their  way.  None  can  be  suffi- 
cient in  this  case  without  levelling  a  finger  at  the  taxpayer 
— na}',  directly  mentioning  him.  He  is  the  key  of  our 
ingenuity.     He  pays  his  dues  ;  he  will  not  pay   the   addi- 


THE  CHAMPION  OF  HIS  COUNTRY.  5 

tional  penny  or  two  wanted  of  him,  that  we  maj  be  a  step 
or  two  ahead  of  the  day  we  live  in,  unless  he  is  frightened. 
But  scarcely  anything  less  than  the  wild  alarnm  of  a  tocsin 
will  frighten  him.  Consequently  the  tocsin  has  to  be 
sounded  ;  and  the  effect  is  woeful  past  measure  :  his  1iugp> 
ging  of  his  army,  his  kneeling  on  the  shore  to  his  navy,  his 
implorations  of  his  yeomanry  and  his  hedges,  are  sad  to 
note.  His  bursts  of  pot-valiancy  (the  male  side  of  the 
maiden  Panic  within  his  bosom)  are  awful  to  his  friends. 
Particular  care  must  be  taken  after  he  has  begun  to  cool 
and  calculate  his  chances  of  security,  that  he  do  not  gather 
to  him"  a  curtain  of  volunteers  and  go  to  sleep  again  behind 
them  ;  for  they  cost  little  in  proportion  to  the  much  they 
pretend  to  be  to  him.  Patriotic  taxpayers  doubtless  exist : 
prophetic  ones,  provident  ones,  do  not.  At  least  we  show 
that  we  are  wanting  in  them.  The  taxpayer  of  a  free  land 
taxes  himself,  and  his  disinclination  for  the  bitter  task, 
save  under  circumstances  of  screaming  urgency — as  when 
the  night-gear  and  bed-linen  of  old  convulsed  Panic  are 
like  the  churned  Channel  sea  in  the  track  of  two  hundred 
hostile  steamboats,  lei  me  say — is  of  the  kind  the  gentle 
schoolboy  feels  when  ileath  or  an  expedition  has  relieved 
him  of  his  tyrant,  and  he  is  entreated  notwithstanding  to  go 
to  his  books. 

Will  you  not  own  that  the  working  of  the  system  for 
scaring  him  and  bleeding  is  very  ingenious?  But  whether 
the  ingenuity  comes  of  native  sagacity,  as  it  is  averred  by 
some,  or  whether  it  shows  an  instinct  labouring  to  supply 
the  deficiencies  of  stupidity,  according  to  others,  I  cannot 
express  an  opinion.  I  give  you  the  position  of  the  countr7 
undisturbed  by  any  moralizings  of  mine.  The  youth  I 
introduce  to  you  will  rarely  let  us  escape  from  it;  for  the 
reason  that  he  was  born  with  so  extreme  and  ])assionnte  a 
love  for  his  country,  that  he  thought  all  things  else  of  mean 
importance  in  comparison  :  and  our  union  is  one  in  which, 
following  the  counsel  of  a  sage  and  seer,  I  must  try  to 
paint  for  you  what  is,  not  that  which  I  imagine.  This  day, 
this  hour,  this  life,  and  even  politics,  the  centre  and  throb- 
bing  heart  of  it  (enough,  when  unburlesqued,  to  blow  the 
down  off  the  gossamer-stump  of  fiction  at  a  single  breath, 
1  have  heard  tell),  must  be  treated  of :  men,  and  the  ideas 
of  men,  which  are — it  is  policy  to  be  emphatic  upon  truisms 


6  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER 

— are  actually  the  motives  of  men  in  a  greater  degree  than 
their  appetites  :  these  are  my  theme ;  and  may  it  be  my 
fortune  to  keep  them  at  blood-heat,  and  myself  calm  as  a 
statue  of  Memnon  in  prostrate  Egypt !  He  sits  there  wait- 
ing for  the  sunlight ;  I  here,  and  readier  to  be  musical  than 
you  think.  I  can  at  any  rate  be  impartial ;  and  do  but  fix 
your  e^^es  on  the  sunlight  striking  him  and  swallowing  the 
day  in  rounding  him,  and  you  have  an  image  of  the  passive 
receptivity  of  shine  and  sbade  I  hold  it  good  to  aim  at,  if  at 
the  same  time  I  may  keep  my  characters  at  blood-heat.  T 
shoot  my  ari'ows  at  a  mark  that  is  pretty  certain  to  return 
them  to  me.  And  as  to  perfect  success,  I  should  be  like 
the  panic-stricken  shopkeepers  in  my  alarm  at  it;  for  I 
should  believe  tliat  genii  of  the  air  fly  above  our  tree-tops 
between  us  and  the  incognizable  spheres,  catching  those 
ambitious  sliafts  they  deem  it  a  promise  of  fun  to  play 
pranks  with. 

Young  ]\lr.  Beauchamp  at  that  period  of  the  panic  had 
not  the  slightest  feeling  for  the  ta,x-payer.  He  was  there- 
fore unable  to  penetrate  the  mystery  of  our  roundabout  way 
of  enlivening  him.  He  pored  over  the  journals  in  per- 
plexity, and  talked  of  his  indignation  nightly  to  his  pretty 
partners  at  balls,  who  knew  not  they  Avere  lesser  Andro- 
raedas  of  his  dear  Andromeda  country,  but  danced  and 
cliatted  and  were  gay,  and  said  they  were  sure  he  would 
defend  them.  The  men  he  addressed  were  civil.  They 
listened  to  him,  sometimes  with  smiles  and  sometimes  with 
laughter,  but  approvingly,  liking  the  lad's  quick  spirit. 
They  were  accustomed  to  the  machinery  employed  to  give 
our  land  a  shudder  and  to  soothe  it,  and  generally  remarked 
that  it  meant  nothing.  His  uncle  Everard,  and  his  uncle's 
friend  Stukely  Culbrett,  expounded  the  nature  of  French- 
men to  him,  saying  that  they  were  uneasy  when  not  period- 
ically thrashed ;  it  would  be  cruel  to  deny  them  their 
crow  beforehand ;  and  so  the  pair  of  gentlemen  pooh-poohed 
the  affair  ;  agreeing  with  him,  however,  that  we  had  no 
great  reason  to  be  proud  of  our  appearance,  and  the  grounds 
they  assigned  for  this  were  the  activity  and  the  prevalence 
of  the  ignoble  doctrines  of  ]\ranchester — a  power  whose  very 
existence  was  unknown  to  Mr,  Beauchamp.  He  would  by 
no  means  allow  the  burden  of  our  national   disgrace  to  be 


THE  CHAMPION  OF  HIS  COUNTRY.  7 

cast  on  one  part  of  the  nation.  We  were  insulted,  and  all 
in  a  poultry-flutter,  jet  no  one  seemed  to  feel  it  but  himself! 
Outside  the  Press  and  Parliament,  which  must  necessarily 
be  the  face  we  show  to  the  foreigner,  absolute  indifference 
reigned.  ISTavy  men  and  red-coats  were  willing  to  join  him 
or  anybody  in  sneers  at  a  clipping  and  paring  miserly 
Government,  but  they  were  insensible  to  the  insult,  the 
panic,  the  startled-poultry  show,  the  shame  of  our  exhibi- 
tion of  ourselves  in  Europe.  It  looked  as  if  the  blustering 
French  Guard  were  to  have  it  all  their  own  w^av.  And  what 
would  they,  what  could  they  but,  think  of  us  !  He  sat 
down  to  write  them  a  challenge. 

He  is  not  the  only  Englishman  who  has  been  impelled  by 
a  youthful  chivahy  to  do  that.  He  is  perhaps  the  youngest 
who  ever  did  it,  and  consequently  there  were  various  diffi- 
culties to  be  overcome.  As  regards  his  qualifications  for 
addressing  Frenchmen,  a  year  of  his  prae-neptunal  time  had 
been  sjDent  in  their  capital  city  for  the  purpose  of  acquiring 
French  of  Paris,  its  latest  refinements  of  pronunciation  and 
polish,  and  the  art  of  conversing.  He  had  read  the  French 
tragic  poets  and  Moliere  ;  he  could  even  relish  the  Gallic- 
classic — "  Qu'il  mourut !  "  and  he  spoke  French  passably, 
being  quite  beyond  the  Bullish  treatment  of  the  tongue. 
Writing  a  letter  in  French  was  a  different  undertaking. 
The  one  he  projected  bore  no  resemblance  to  an  ordinary 
letter.  The  briefer  the  better,  of  course  ;  but  a  tone  of  dig- 
nity was  imperative,  and  the  tone  must  be  individual,  dis- 
tinctive, Xevil  Beauchamp's,  though  not  in  his  native 
language.  First  he  tried  his  letter  in  French,  and  lost  sight 
of  himself  completely.  "  Messieurs  de  la  Garde  Francaise," 
was  a  good  beginning  ;  the  remainder  gave  him  a  false  air 
of  a  masquerader,  most  uncomfortable  to  see  ;  it  was  Nevil 
Beauchamp  in  moustache  and  imperial,  and  bag-breeches 
badly  fitting.  He  tried  English,  which  was  real^y  himself, 
and  all  that  heart  could  desire  supposing  he  addressed  a 
body  of  midshipmen  just  a  little  loftily.  But  the  English, 
when  translated,  was  bald  and  blunt  to  the  verge  of  offea- 
siveness. 

"Gentlemex  of  the  French  Guard, 

"  I  take  up  the  glove  you  have  tossed  us.     I  am  an 
Eno-lishman.     That  Avill  do  for  a  reason." 


8  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

This  miglit  possibly  pass  with  the  gentlemen  of  the 
English  Guard.     But  read  : — 

"  Messieurs  de  la  Garde  Francaise, 

"  J'accepte  votre  gant.     Je  suis  Anglais.     La  raison 
est  suffisante." 

And  imagine  French  Guardsmen  reading  it ! 

Mr.  Beauchamp  knew  the  virtue  of  punctiliousness  in 
epithets  and  phrases  of  courtesy  toward  a  formal  people,  and 
as  the  officers  of  the  French  Guard  were  gentlemen  of  birth, 
he  would  have  them  to  perceive  in  him  their  equal  at  a 
glance.  On  the  other  hand,  a  bare  excess  of  phrasing  dis- 
torted him  to  a  likeness  of  Mascarille  playing  Marquis. 
How  to  be  English  and  think  French!  The  business  was 
as  laborious  as  if  he  had  started  on  the  rough  sea  of  the 
Channel  to  get  at  them  in  an  open  boat. 

The  lady  governing  his  uncle  Everard's  house,  Mrs. 
Rosamund  Culling,  entered  his  room  and  found  him  writing 
Avith  knitted  brows.  She  was  young,  that  is,  she  Avas  not  in 
her  middle-age  ;  and  they  were  the  dearest  of  friends ;  each 
had  given  the  other  proof  of  it.  Nevil  looked  up  and 
beheld  her  lifted  finger. 

"  You  are  composing  a  love-letter,  Nevil !  "  The  accusa 
tion  sounded  like  irony. 

"  No,"  said  he,  puffing  ;  "  I  wish  I  were." 

"  What  can  it  be,  then?" 

He  thrust  pen  and  paper  a  hand's  length  on  the  table, 
and  gazed  at  her. 

"My  dear  Nevil,  is  it  really  anything  serious  ?"  said  she. 

"I  am  writing  French,  ma'am." 

"  Then  I  may  help  you.  It  must  be  very  absorbing,  for 
you  did  not  hear  my  knock  at  your  door." 

Now,  could  he  trust  her  ?  The  widow  of  a  British  officer 
killed  nobly  fighting  for  his  country  in  India,  was  a  person 
to  be  relied  on  for  active  and  burning  sympathy  in  a  matter 
that  touched  the  country's  honour.  She  was  a  woman,  and 
a  woman  of  spirit.  Men  had  not  pleased  him  of  late.  Some- 
thing might  be  hoped  from  a  woman. 

He  stated  his  occupation,  saying  that  if  she  would  assist 
him  in  his  French  she  would  oblige  him  ;  the  letter  must  be 
written  and  must  go.     This  was  uttered  so  positively  that 


THE  CHAMPION  OJb'  HIS  COUNTRY.  9 

she  bowed  her  head,  amused  by  the  funny  semi-tone  of 
defiance  to  the  person  to  whom  he  confided  the  secret.  She 
had  humour,  and  was  ravished  by  his  English  boyishness, 
with  the  novel  blush  of  the  heroical-nonsensical  in  it. 

Mrs.  Culling  promised  him  demurely  that  she  would  listen, 
objecting  nothing  to  his  plan,  only  to  his  French. 

"Messieurs  de  la  Garde  Fran9aise!"  he  commenced. 

Her  criticism  followed  swiftly. 

"  I  think  you  are  writing  to  the  Garde  Imperiale." 

He  admitted  his  en^or,  and  thanked  her  warmly. 

"Messieurs  de  la  Garde  Imperiale!" 

"  Does  not  that,"  she  said,  "include  the  non-commissioned 
officers,  the  privates,  and  the  cooks,  of  all  the  regiments  ?" 

He  could  scarcely  think  that,  but  thought  it  provoking 
the  French  had  no  distinctive  working  title  corresponding 
to  gentlemen,  and  suggested  "  Messieurs  les  Officiers:"  which 
might,  Mrs.  Culling  assured  him,  comprise  the  barbei'S.  He 
frowned,  and  she  prescribed  his  wi-iting,  "  Messieurs  les 
Colonels  de  la  Garde  Imperiale."  This  he  set  down.  The 
point  was  that  a  stand  must  be  made  against  the  flood  of 
sarcasms  and  bullyings  to  which  the  country  was  exposed 
in  increasing  degrees,  under  a  belief  that  we  would  fight 
neither  in  the  mass  nor  individually.  Possibly,  if  it  became 
known  that  the  colonels  refused  to  meet  a  midshipman,  the 
gentlemen  of  our  Household  troops  would  advance  a  step. 

Mrs.  Culling's  adroit  efforts  to  weary  him  out  of  his  pro- 
ject were  unsuccessful.  He  was  too  much  on  fire  to  know 
the  taste  of  absurdity. 

Nevil  repeated  what  he  had  written  in  French,  and  next 
the  English  of  what  he  intended  to  .say. 

The  lady  conscientiously  did  her  utmost  to  reconcile  the 
two  languages.  She  softened  his  downrightness,  passed  with 
approval  his  compliments  to  France  and  the  ancient  high 
reputation  of  her  army,  and,  seeing  that  a  loophole  was  left 
for  them  to  apologize,  asked  how  many  French  colonels  he 
wanted  to  fight. 

"  I  do  not  want,  ma'am,"  said  Nevil. 

He  had  simply  taken  up  the  glove  they  had  again  flung  at 
our  feet :  and  he  had  done  it  to  stop  the  incessant  revilings, 
little  short  of  positive  contempt,  which  we  in  our  indolence 
exposed  ourselves  to  from  the  foreigner,  particularly  from 
Frenchmen,  whom  he  liked ;  and  precisely  because  he  liked 


10  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

them  he  insisted  on  forcing  them  to  respect  us.  Let  hia 
challenge  be  accepted,  and  he  would  find  backers.  He  knew 
the  stuS  of  Englishmen  :  they  only  required  an  example. 

"French  officers  are  skilful  swordsmen,"  said  Mrs.  CuUing. 
**  My  husband  has  told  me  they  will  spend  hoars  of  the  day 
thrusting  and  parrying.     Thej^  are  used  to  duelling." 

"  We,"  Nevil  answered,  "  don't  get  apprenticed  to  the 
shambles  to  learn  our  duty  on  the  field.  Duelling  is,  I  know, 
sickening  folly.  We  go  too  far  in  pretending  to  despise  every 
insult  pitched  at  us.  A  man  may  do  for  his  country  what 
he  wouldn't  do  for  himself." 

Mrs.  Culling  gravely  said  she  hoped  that  bloodshed  would 
be  avoided,  and  Mr.  Beauchamp  nodded. 

She  left  him  hard  at  work. 

He  was  a  popular  boy,  a  favourite  of  women,  and  there- 
fore  full  of  engagements  to  Balls  and  dinners.  And  he  was 
a  modest  boy,  though  his  uncle  encouraged  him  to  deliver 
his  opinions  freely  and  argue  with  men.  The  little  drummer 
attached  to  wheeling  columns  thinks  not  more  of  himself 
because  his  short  legs  perform  the  same  strides  as  the 
grenadiers';  he  is  happy  to  be  able  to  keep  the  step ;  and  so 
was  Nevil ;  and  if  ever  he  contiadicted  a  senior,  it  was  in 
the  interests  of  the  country.  Veneration  of  heroes,  living 
and  dead,  kept  down  his  conceit.  He  worshipped  devotedly. 
From  an  early  age  he  exacted  of  his  flattering  ladies  that 
the}^  must  love  his  hero.  Not  to  love  his  hero  was  to  be 
strangely  in  error,  to  be  in  need  of  conversion,  and  he  pro- 
selytized with  the  ardour  of  the  Moslem.  His  uncle  Evei'ard 
was  proud  of  his  good  looks,  fire,  and  nonsense,  during  the 
boy's  extreme  youth.  He  traced  him  by  cousinships  back 
to  the  great  Earl  Beauchamp  of  Froissart,  and  would  have 
it  so;  and  he  would  have  spoilt  him  had  not  the  young 
fellow's  mind  been  possessed  by  his  reverence  for  men  of 
deeds.  How  could  he  think  of  himself,  who  had  done 
nothing,  accomplished  nothing,  so  long  as  he  brooded  on  the 
images  of  signal  Englishmen  whose  names  were  historic  for 
daring,  and  the  strong  arm,  and  artfulness,  all  given  to  the 
service  of  the  country  ? — men  of  a  magnanimity  overcast 
with  simplicity,  which  Nevil  held  to  be  pure  insular  English  ; 
our  type  of  splendid  manhood,  not  discoverable  elsewhere. 
A  method  of  enraging  him  was  to  distinguish  one  or  other 
of  them  as  Irish,  Scotch,  or  Cambrian.     He  considered  it  a 


THE  CHAMPION  OF  HIS  COUNTRY.  11 

dismemberment  of  the  country.  And  notwithstanding  the 
pleasure  he  had  in  uniting  in  his  person  the  strong  red 
blood  of  the  chivali'ous  Lord  BeauchamjD  with  the  hard  and 
tenacious  Romfrey  blood,  he  hated  the  title  of  Xorman.  We 
are  English — British,  he  said.  A  family  resting  its  pride 
on  mere  ancestry  provoked  his  contempt,  if  it  did  not  show 
him  one  of  his  men.  He  had  also  a  disposition  to  esteem 
lightly  the  family  which,  having  produced  a  man,  settled 
down  after  that  effort  for  generations  to  enjoy  the  country's 
pay.  Boys  are  unjust ;  but  Nevil  thought  of  the  country! 
mainly,  arguing  that  he  should  not  accept  the  country's! 
money  for  what  we  do  not  ourselves  perform.  These  traits 
of  his  were  regarded  as  characteristics  hopeful  rather  than 
the  reverse  ;  none  of  his  friends  and  relatives  foresaw  danger 
in  them.  He  was  a  capital  boy  for  his  elders  to  trot  out  and 
banter. 

Mrs.  Rosamund  Culland  usually  went  to  his  room  to  see 
him  and  doai  on  him  before  he  started  on  his  rounds  of  an 
evening.  She  suspected  that  his  necessary  attention  to  his 
toilet  would  barely  have  allowed  him  time  to  finish  his  copy 
of  the  letter.  Certain  phrases  had  bothered  him.  The 
thrice  recurrence  of  'ma  patrie'  jarred  on  his  ear.  'Senti- 
ments '  atflicted  his  acute  sense  of  the  declamatory  twice. 
"  C'est  avec  les  sentiments  du  plus  profond  regret:"  and 
again,  "  Je  suis  bien  sur  que  vous  comprendrez  mes  senti- 
ments, et  m'accorderez  I'honneur  que  je  reclame  au  nom  de 
ma  patrie  outragee."  The  word  '  patrie'  was  broadcast  over 
the  letter,  and  'honneur  '  appeared  four  times,  and  a  more 
delicate  word  to  harp  on  than  the  others  ! 

"  jSTot  to  Frenchmen,"  said  his  friend  Rosamund.  "  I 
would  put  '  Je  suis  convaincu:'  it  is  not  so  familiar." 

"  But  I  have  written  out  the  fair  copy,  ma'am,  and  that 
alteration  seems  a  trifle." 

"  I  would  copy  it  again  and  again,  Nevil,  to  get  it  right." 

"  1^0  :  I'd  rather  see  it  off  than  have  it  right,"  said  I^evil, 
and  he  folded  the  letter. 

How  the  deuce  to  address  it,  and  what  direction  to  write 
on  it,  were  further  difficulties.  He  had  half  a  mind  to 
remain  at  home  to  conquer  them  by  excogitation. 

Rosamund  urged  him  not  to  break  his  engagement  to  dine 
at  the  Halkett's,  where  perhaps  from  his  friend  Colonel 
Halkett,    who    would    never    imagine    the    reason    for  the 


12  BEAQCHAMP  S  CAREER. 

inquiry,  lie  might  learn  how  a  letter  to  a  crack  French 
regiment  should  be  addressed  and  directed. 

This  proved  persuasive,  and  as  the  hour  was  late  Nevil 
had  to  act  on  her  advice  in  a  hurrj. 

His  uncle  Everard  enjoyed  a  perusal  of  the  manuscript  in 
his  absence. 


CHAPTER  II. 

UNCLE,  NEPHEW,  AND  ANOTHER. 


The  Honourable  Everard  Romfrey  came  of  a  race  of  fight- 
ing earls,  toughest  of  men,  whose  high,  stout.  Western 
castle  had  weathered  our  cyclone  periods  of  history  without 
changing  hands  more  than  once,  and  then  but  for  a  short 
year  or  two,  as  if  to  teach  the  original  possessors  the  wisdom 
of  inclining  to  the  stronger  side.  They  had  a  queen's 
chamber  in  it,  and  a  king's  ;  and  they  stood  well  up  against 
the  charge  of  having  dealt  darkly  with  the  king.  He  died 
among  them — how  lias  not  been  told.  We  will  not  discuss 
the  conjectures  here.  A  savour  of  North  Sea  foam  and 
ballad  pirates  hangs  about  the  early  chronicles  of  the  family. 
Indications  of  an  ancestry  that  had  lived  between  the  wave 
and  the  cloud- were  discernible  in  their  notions  of  right  and 
wrong.  But  a  settlement  on  solid  earth  has  its  intluences. 
They  were  chivali-ous  knights  bannerets,  and  leadei-s  in  the 
tented  field,  paying  and  taking  fair  ransom  for  captures;  .and 
the}^  were  good  landlords,  good  masters  blithely  followed  to 
the  wars.  Sing  an  old  battle  of  Noi-mandy,  Picardy,  Gas- 
cony,  and  you  celebrate  deeds  of  theirs.  At  home  they  were 
vexatious  neighbours  to  a  town  of  burghers  claiming  privi- 
leges :  nor  was  it  unreasonable  that  the  Earl  should  flout  the 
pretensions  of  the  town  to  read  things  for  themselves,  docu- 
ments, titleships,  rights,  and  the  rest.  As  well  might  the 
flat  plain  boast  of  seeing  as  far  as  the  pillar.  Earl  and  town 
fought  the  fight  of  Barons  and  Commons  in  epitome.  The 
Earl  gave  way ;  the  Barons  gave  way.  Mighty  men  may 
thrash  numbers  for  a  time  ;  in  the  end  the  numbers  will  be 
thrashed  into  the  art  of  beating  their  teachers.     It  is  bad 


TTNCLE,  NEPHEW,  AND  ANOTHEE.  13 

policy  to  fight  tlie  odds  incli  by  inch.  Those  piimitive school- 
masters of  the  million  liked  it,  and  took  their  pleasure  in 
that  way.  The  Romfreys  did  not  breed  wariiors  for  a  parade 
at  Court;  wars  though  frequent,  were  not  constant,  and 
they  wanted  occupation  :  they  may  even  have  felt  that  they 
were  bound  in  no  common  degree  to  the  jDursuit  of  an  answer 
to  what  may  be  called  the  parent  question  of  humanity:  Am 
thy  master,  or  thou  mine  ?  They  put  it  to  lords  of  other 
castles,  to  town  corporations,  and  sometimes  brother  to 
brother:  and  notwithstanding  that  the  answer  often  unseated 
and  once  discastled  them,  they  swam  back  to  their  places,  as 
born  warriors,  urged  by  a  passion  for  land,  are  almost  sure 
to  do;  are  indeed  quite  sure,  so  long  as  they  multiply-  sturdily, 
and  will  never  take  no  from  Fortune.  A  family  passion  for 
land,  that  survives  a  generation,  is  as  effective  as  genius  in 
producing  the  object  it  conceives  ;  and  through  raai^iages 
and  conflicts,  the  seizure  of  lands,  and  brides  bearing  land, 
these  sharp-feeding  eagle-eyed  Earls  of  Romfrey  spied  few 
spots  within  their  top  tower's  wide  circle  of  the  heavens  not 
their  own.  It  is  therefore  manifest  that  they  had  the  root 
qualities,  the  prime  active  elements,  of  men  in  perfection, 
and  notably  that  appetite  to  flourish  at  the  cost  of  the  weaker, 
which  is  the  blessed  exemplification  of  strength,  and  has  been 
man's  cheerfulest  encoui\^gement  to  fight  on  since  his  com- 
parative subjugation  (on  the  whole,  it  seems  complete)  of  the 
animal  world.  By-and-by  the  struggle  is  transferred  to 
higher  ground,  and  we  begin  to  perceive  how  much  we  are 
indebted  to  the  fighting  spirit.  Strength  is  the  brute  form 
of  truth.  No  conspicuously  great  man  was  born  of  the 
Romfreys,  who  were  better  served  by  a  succession  of  able 
sons.  They  sent  undistinguished  able  men  to  army  and  navy 
— lieutenants  given  to  be  critics  of  their  captains,  but  trust- 
Avorthy  for  their  work.  In  the  later  life  of  the  family,  they 
preferred  the  provincial  state  of  splendid  squires  to  Court 
and  political  honour's.  They  were  renowned  shots,  long- 
limbed  stalking  sportsmen  in  field  and  bower,  fast  friends, 
intemperate  enemies,  handsome  to  feminine  eyes,  resembling 
one  another  in  build,  and  mostly  of  the  Northern  colour,  or 
beiwixt  the  tints,  with  an  hereditary  nose  and  mouth  that 
cried  Romfi-ey  from  faces  thrice  diluted  in  cousinships. 

The   Hon.   Everard   (Stephen    Denely  Craven   Romfrey), 
third  son  of  the   late  Earl,  had  some  hopes  of  the  title,  and 


14 

was  in  person  a  noticeable  gentleman,  in  mind  a  mediaeval 
baron,  in  politics  a  crotchety  unintelligible  Whig.  He  in- 
herited the  estate  of  Holdesburj,  on  the  borders  of  Hamp- 
shire and  Wilts,  and  espoused  that  of  Stejnliam  in  Sussex, 
where  he  generally  resided.  His  favourite  in  the  family  had 
been  the  Lady  Emily,  his  eldest  sister,  who,  contrary  to  the 
advice  of  her  other  brothers  and  sisters,  had  yielded  her  hand 
to  his  not  wealthy  friend  Colonel  Richard  Beauchauip.  After 
the  death  of  Nevil's  parents,  he  adopted  the  boy,  being  him- 
self childless,  and  a  widower.  Childlessness  was  the  aflliction 
of  the  family.  Everard^  having  no  son,  could  hardly  hope 
that  his  brother  the  Earl,  and  Craven,  Lord  Avonley,  would 
have  one,  for  he  loved  the  prospect  of  the  title.  Yet,  as 
there  were  no  cousins  of  the  male  branch  extant,  the  lack  of 
an  heir  was  a  serious  omission,  and  to  become  the  Earl  of 
Romfrey,  and  be  the  last  Earl  of  Romfrey,  was  a  melancholy 
thought,  however  brilliant.  So  sinks  the  sun  :  but  he  could 
not  desire  the  end  of  a  great  day.  At  one  time  he  was  a  hot 
Parliamentarian,  calling  himself  a  Whig,  called  by  the  Whigs 
a  Radical,  called  by  the  Radicals  a  Tory,  and  very  happy  in 
fighting  them  all  round.  This  was  during  the  decay  of  his 
party,  before  the  Liberals  were  defined.  A  Liberal  deprived 
him  of  the  seat  he  had  held  for  fifteen  years,  and  the  clearness 
of  his  understanding  was  obscured  by  that  black  vision  of 
popular  ingratitude  which  afflicts  the  free  fighting  man  yet 
more  than  the  malleable  public  servant.  The  latter  has  a 
clerkly  humility  attached  to  him  like  a  second  nature,  from 
his  habit  of  doing  as  others  bid  him :  the  former  smacks 
a  voluntarily  sweating  foi'ehead  and  throbbing  wounds  l'(jr 
witness  of  his  claim  upon  your  palpable  thankfulness.  It 
is  an  insult  to  tell  him  that  he  fought  for  his  own 
satisfaction.  Mr.  Romfrey  still  called  himself  a  Whig, 
though  it  was  Whig  mean  vengeance  on  account  of  his 
erratic  vote  and  voice  on  two  or  three  occasions  that 
denied  him  a  peerage  and  a  seat  in  haven.  Thither  let  your 
good  sheep  go,  your  echoes,  your  wag-tail  dogs,  your  wealthy 
pursy  manufacturers  !  He  decried  the  attractions  of  the 
sublimer  House,  and  laughed  at  the  transparent  Whiggery 
of  his  party  in  replenishing  it  from  the  upper  shoots  of  the 
commonalty:  "Dragging  it  down  to  prop  it  up!  swamping 
it  to  keep  it  swimming !"  he  said.  He  was  nevertheless  a 
vehement  supporter  of    that    House.       He  stood  for  King 


UNCLE  J  NEPHEW,  AND  ANOTHER.  15 

Lords,  and  Commons,  in  spite  of  his  personal  grievances, 
harping  the  triad  as  vigoronslr  as  bard  of  old  Britain. 
Commons-  he  added  out  of  courtesy,  or  from  usage  or  policy, 
or  for  emphasis,  or  for  the  sake  of  the  Constitutional  number 
of  the  Estates  of  the  realm,  or  it  was  because  he  had  an 
intuition  of  the  folly  of  omitting  them  ;  the  same,  to  some 
extent,  that  builders  have  regai-ding  bricks  when  they  plan 
a  fabric.  Thus,  although  King  and  Lords  prove  the  exist- 
ence of  Commons  in  days  of  the  political  deluge  almost 
syllogistically,  the  example  of  not  including  one  of  the 
estates  might  be  imitated,  and  Commons  and  King  do  not 
necessitate  the  conception  of  an  intermediate  third,  while 
Lords  and  Commons  suggest  the  decapitation  of  the  leading 
figure.  The  united  thiee,  however,  no  longer  cast  reflections 
on  one  another,  and  were  an  assurance  to  this  acute  politi- 
cian that  his  birds  were  safe.  He  preserved  game  rigorously, 
and  the  deduction  was  the  work  of  instinct  with  him.  To 
his  mind  the  game-laws  w^ere  the  corner-stone  of  Law%  and 
of  a  man's  right  to  hold  his  own;  and  so  delicately  did  he 
think  the  country  poised,  that  an  attack  on  them  threatened 
the  structure  of  Justice.  The  three  conjoined  Estates  were 
therefore  his  head  gamekeepers;  their  duty  was  to  back 
him  against  the  poacher,  if  they  would  not  see  the  country 
tumble.  As  to  his  under-gamekeepeis,  he  was  their  intimate 
and  their  friend,  saying,  with  none  of  the  misanthropy  which 
proclaims  the  virtues  of  the  faithful  dog  to  the  confusion  of 
humankind,  he  liked  their  company  better  than  that  of  his 
equals,  and  learnt  more  from  them.  They  also  listened 
deferentially  to  their  instructor.  The  conversation  he 
delighted  in  most  might  have  been  going  on  in  any  century 
since  the  Conquest.  Grant  him  his  not  unreasonable  argu- 
ment upon  his  property  in  game,  he  was  a  liberal  landlord. 
No  tenants  were  forced  to  take  his  farms.  He  dragged 
none  by  the  collar.  He  gave  them  liberty  to  go  to  Australia, 
Canada,  the  Americas,  if  they  liked.  He  asked  in  return  to 
have  the  liberty  to  shoot  on  his  ov»n  grounds,  and  rear  the 
marks  for  his  shot,  treating  the  question  of  indemnification 
as  a  gentleman  should.  Still  there  were  grumbling  tenants. 
He  swarmed  with  game,  and,  though  he  was  liberal,  his 
hares  and  his  birds  were  immensely  destructive  :  computa- 
tion could  not  fix  the  damage  done  by  them.  Probably  the 
farmers  expected  them  not  to  eat.     "  There  are  two  partie 


16  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEEE. 

to  a  bargain,"  said  EA^erard,  "  and  one  gets  the  worst  of  it. 
But  if  he  was  never  obliged  to  make  it,  where's  bis  right 
to  complain  ?"  Men  of  sense  rarely  obtain  satisfactory 
anssvers:  they  are  provoked  to  despise  their  kind.  But  the 
poacher  w^as  another  kind  of  vermin  than  the  stupid  tenant. 
Everard  did  him  the  honour  to  hjite  him,  and  twice  in  a  fray 
bad  he  collared  his  ruffian,  and  subsequently  sat  in  con- 
demnation of  the  wretch  :  for  he  who  can  attest  a  villany  is 
best  qualified  to  punish  it.  Cangs  from  the  metropolis 
found  him  too  determined  and  alert  for  their  sport.  It  was 
the  fracliousness  of  here  and  there  an  unbroken  young 
scoundrelly  colt  poacher  of  the  neighliourhood,  a  born  thief, 
a  fellow  damned  in  an  inveterate  taste  for  game,  which  gave 
him  annoyance.  One  night  he  took  Master  Nevil  out  with 
him,  and  they  hunted  down  a  couple  of  sinners  that  showed 
fight  against  odds.  Nevil  attempted  to  beg  them  off  because 
of  their  boldness.  "I  don't  set  my  traps  for  nothing,"  said 
his  uncle,  silencing  him.  But  the  boy  reflected  that  his 
uncle  was  perpetually  lamenting  the  cowed  spirit  of  the 
common  English — formerly  such  fresh  and  merry  men ! 
He  touched  Rosamund  Culling's  heart  with  his  description 
of  their  attitudes  when  they  stood  resisting  and  bawling  to 
the  keepers,  "  Come  on  !  we'll  die  for  it."  They  did  not  die. 
Everard  explained  to  the  boy  that  he  could  have  killed 
them,  and  was  contented  to  have  sent  them  to  gaol  for  a  few 
■weeks.  Nevil  gaped  at  the  empty  magnanimity  which  his 
•uncle  presented  to  him  as  a  remarkably  big  morsel.  At  the 
age  of  fourteen  he  was  despatched  to  sea. 

He  went  unwillingly  ;  not  so  much  from  an  objection  to  a 
naval  life  as  from  a  wish,  incomprehensible  to  grown  men 
and  boys,  and  especially  to  his  cousin  Cecil  Baskelett,  that 
he  might  remain  at  school  and  learn.  "  The  fellow  would 
like  to  be  a  parson !"  Everard  said  in  disgust.  No  parson 
had  ever  been  known  of  in  the  Romfrey  family,  or  in  the 
Beauchamp.  A  legend  of  a  parson  that  had  been  a  tutor  in 
one  of  the  Romfrey  houses,  and  had  talked  and  sung  blandly 
to  a  damsel  of  the  blood — degenerate  maid! — to  receive  a 
handsome  trouncing  for  his  pains,  instead  of  the  holy 
marriage-tie  he  aimed  at,  was  the  only  connection  of  the 
Romfrej'S  with  the  parsonry,  as  Everard  called  them.  He 
attributed  the  boy's  feeling  to  the  influence  of  his  great-aunt 
Beauchamp,  who    would,   he   said,    infallibly   have  made  a 


UNCLE,  "NEPHEW,  AND  ANOTHER.  17 

parson  of  him.  "  I'd  rather  enlist  for  a  soldier,"  Nevil  said, 
and  he  ceased  to  dream  of  rebellion,  and  of  his  little  property 
of  a  few  thousand  pounds  in  the  funds  to  aid  him  in  it.  He 
confessed  to  his  dear  friend,  Rosamund  Culling,  that  he 
thought  the  parsons  happy  in  having  time  to  read  history. 
And  oh,  to  feel  for  certain  which  side  was  the  wrong  side  in 
our  Civil  War,  so  that  one  should  not  hesitate  in  choosing ! 
Such  puzzles  are  never,  he  seemed  to  be  aware,  solved  in 
a  midshipman's  mess.  He  hated  bloodshed  and  was  guiltv 
of  the  '  cotton- spinners'  babble,'  abhorred  of  Everard,  iia 
alluding  to  it.  Rosamund  liked  him  for  his  humanity  ;  but 
she,  too,  feared  he  was  a  slack  Romfrey  when  she  heard  him 
speak  in  precocious  contempt  of  glory.  Somewliere,  some- 
how, he  had  got  hold  of  Manchester  sarcasms  concerning 
glory :  a  weedy  word  of  the  newspapers  had  been  sown  in 
his  bosom  perhaps.  He  said  :  ''  I  don't  care  to  win  glory ; 
I  know  all  about  that ;  I've  seen  an  old  hat  in  the  Louvre." 
And  he  would  have  had  her  to  suppose  that  he  had  looked 
on  the  campaigning  head-cover  of  Napoleon  simph'  as  a 
shocking  bad,  bald,  brown-rubbed  old  tricorne  rather  than  as 
the  nod  of  extinction  to  thousands,  the  great  orb  of  darkness, 
the  still-trembling  gloomy  quiver — the  brain  of  the  light- 
nings of  battles. 

'Now  this  boy  nursed  no  secret  presumptuous  belief  that 
he  was  fitted  for  the  walks  of  the  higher  intellect ;  he  was 
not  having  his  impudent  boy's  fling  at  superiority  over  the 
superior,  as  here  and  there  a  subtle-minded  vain  juvenile 
will ;  nor  was  he  a  parrot  repeating  a  line  from  some  Lan- 
castrian pamphlet.  He  really  disliked  war  and  the  sword ; 
and  scorning  the  prospect  of  an  idle  life,  confessing  that  his 
abilities  barely  adapted  him  for  a  sailor's,  he  was  opposed 
to  the  career  opened  to  him  almost  to  the  extreme  of  shrink- 
ing and  terror.  Or  that  was  the  impression  conveyed  to  a 
not  unsympathetic  hearer  by  his  forlorn  efforts  to  make 
himself  understood,  which  were  like  the  tappings  of  the 
stick  of  a  blind  man  mystified  by  his  sense  of  touch  at 
wrong  corners.  His  bewilderment  and  speechlessness  were 
a  comic  display,  tragic  to  him. 

Just  as  his  uncle  Everard  predicted,  he  came  home  ivom 
his  first  voyage  a  pleasant  sailor  lad.  His  features,  more 
than  handsome  to  a  woman,  so  mobile  they  were,  shone  of 
sea  and  spirit,  the  chance  lights  of  the  sea,  and   the   spirit 

c 


18  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

breathing  out  of  it.  As  to  war  and  bloodshed,  a  man's  first 
thought  must  be  his  country,  j^oung  Jacket  remarked,  and 
Ich  dien  was  the  best  motto  afloat.  Rosamund  noticed  the 
peculiarity  of  the  books  he  selected  for  his  private  reading. 
They  were  not  boys'  books,  books  of  adventure  and  the  like. 
His  favourite  author  was  one  writing  of  Heroes,  in  (so  she 
esteemed  it)  a  style  resembling  either  early  architecture  or 
utter  dilapidation,  so  loose  and  rough  it  seemed ;  a  wind-in- 
the-orchard  style,  that  tumbled  down  here  and  there  an 
appreciable  fruit  with  uncouth  bluster;  sentences  without 
commencements  running  to  abrupt  endings  and  smoke,  like 
waves  against  a  sea-wall,  learned  dictionary  words  giving  a 
hand  to  street-slang,  and  accents  falling  on  them  haphazard, 
like  slant  rays  from  driving  clouds ;  all  the  pages  in  a 
breeze,  the  whole  book  producing  a  kind  of  electrical  agita- 
tion in  the  mind  and  the  joints.  This  was  its  effect  on  the 
lady.  To  her  the  incomprehensible  was  the  abominable,  for 
she  had  our  country's  hi^h  critical  feeling ;  but  he,  while 
admitting  that  he  could  not  quite  master  it,  liked  it.  He 
had  dug  the  book  out  of  a  bookseller's  shop  in  Malta,  capti- 
vated by  its  title,  and  had,  since  the  day  of  his  purchase, 
gone  at  it  again  and  again,  getting  nibbles  of  golden  mean- 
ing by  instalments,  as  with  a  solitary  pick  in  a  very  dark 
mine,  until  the  illumination  of  an  idea  struck  him  that  there 
was  a  great  deal  more  in  the  book  than  there  was  in  himself. 
This  was  sujfficient  to  secure  the  devoted  attachment  of 
young  Mr.  Beauchamp.  Rosamund  sighed  with  apprehen- 
sion to  think  of  his  unlikeness  to  boys  and  men  among  his 
countrymen  in  some  things.  Why  should  he  hug  a  book  he 
owned  he  could  not  quite  comprehend  ?  He  said  he  liked  a 
bone  in  his  mouth  ;  and  it  was  natural  wisdom,  though  un- 
appreciated by  women.  A  bone  in  a  boy's  mind  for  him  to 
gnaw  and  worry,  corrects  the  vagrancies  and  promotes  the 
healthy  activities,  whether  there  be  marrow  in  it  or  not. 
Supposing  it  furnishes  only  dramatic  entertainment  in  that 
usually  vacant  tenement,  or  powder-shell,  it  will  be  of 
service. 

N'evil  proposed  to  her  that  her  next  present  should  be  the 
entire  list  of  his  beloved  Incomprehensible's  published  works, 
and  she  promised,  and  was  not  sorry  to  keep  her  promise 
dangling  at  the  skirts  of  memory,  to  drop  away  in  time. 
For  that   fire- and- smoke    writer    dedicated  volumes   to  the 


UNCLE,  NEPHEW,  AA'D  ANOTHER.  19 

praise  of  a  regicide.  Xice  rea-ling  for  her  clear  boy  !  Some 
weeks  after  Nevil  was  olf  again,  slie  abused  herself  for  her 
half-hearted  love  of  him,  and  Avould  have  given  him  any- 
thing— the  last  word  in  favour  of  the  Country  versus  the 
royal  Martyr,  for  example,  had  he  insisted  on  it.  She 
gathered,  bit  by  bit,  that  he  had  dashed  at  his  big  bluster- 
ing cousin  Cecil  to  vindicate  her  good  name.  The  direful 
youths  fought  in  the  Steynham  stables,  overlieard  by  the 
grooms.  Everard  received  a  fine  account  of  the  tussle  from 
these  latter,  and  Rosamund,  knowing  him  to  be  of  the  orcior 
of  gentlemen  who,  whatsoever  their  sins,  wdll  at  all  costs 
protect  a  woman's  delicacy,  and  a  dependant's,  man  or 
woman,  did  not  fear  to  have  her  ears  shocked  in  probing 
him  on  the  subject. 

Everard  was  led  to  say  that  Nevil's  cousins  were  be- 
devilled with  womanfolk. 

From  which  Rosamund  perceived  that  women  had  been 
at  work  ;  and  if  so,  it  ^^■as  upon  the  business  of  the  scandal- 
monger; and  if  bO,  Nevil  fought  his  cousin  to  piT)tect  her 
good  name  from  a  babbler  of  the  family  gossip. 

She  spoke  to  Stukely  Culbrett,her  dead  husband's  friend, 
to  whose  recommendation  she  was  indebted  for  her  place  in 
Everard  Romfrey's  household. 

"  Nevil  behaved  like  a  knight,  I  hear." 

"  Your  beauty  was  disputed,"  said  he,  "  and  Nevil  knocked 
the  blind  man  down  for  not  being  able  to  see." 

She  thought,  "  Not  my  beauty  !  Nevil  struck  his  cousin 
on  behalf  of  the  only  fair  thing  I  have  left  to  me !" 

This  was  a  moment  with  her  when  many  sensations  rush 
together  and  form  a  knot  in  sensitive  natures.  She  had 
been  very  good-looking.  She  was  good-looking  still,  but 
she  remembered  the  bloom  of  her  looks  in  her  husband's 
days  (the  tragedy  of  the  miiTor  is  one  for  a  woman  to 
write :  I  am  ashamed  to  find  myself  smiling  while  the  poor 
lady  weeps),  she  remembered  his  praises,  her  pride  ;  his 
death  in  battle,  her  anguish  :  then,  on  her  strange  entry  to 
this  house,  her  bitter  wish  to  be  older ;  and  then,  the 
oppressive  calm  of  her  recognition  of  her  wi.^h's  fulfilment, 
the  heavy  drop  to  dead  earth,  when  she  could  say,  or  pretend 
to  think  she  could  say — 1  look  old  enough  :  will  they  tattle 
of  me  now  ?  Nevil's  championshij)  of  her  good  name  brought 
her  history  spinning  about  her  head,  and  threw  a  finger  of 

c2 


20  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

light  on  her  real  position.  In  that  she  saw  the  slenderaese 
of  her  hold  on  respect,  as  well  as  felt  her  personal  stainless- 
ness.  The  boy  warmed  her  chill  widowhood.  It  was  written 
that  her  second  love  should  be  of  the  pattern  of  mother's 
love.  She  loved  him  hungrily  and  jealously,  always  in  fear 
for  him  when  he  was  absent,  even  anxiously  when  she  had 
him  near.  For  some  cause,  born,  one  may  fancy,  of  the  hour 
of  her  love's  conception,  his  image  in  her  heart  w^as  steeped 
in  tears.  She  was  not,  happily,  one  of  the  women  who 
I)etray  strong  feeling,  and  humour  preserved  her  from 
excesses  of  sentiment. 


CHAPTER  III. 

CONrATNS  BAEONTAL  VIEWS  OF  THE  PRESKNT  TIME. 

TJPON  the  word  of  honour  of  Rosamund,  the  letter  to  the 
officers  of  the  French  Guard  was  posted. 

"  Post  it,  post  it,"  Everard  said,  on  her  consulting  him, 
with  the  letter  in  her  liand.  "  Let  the  fellow  stand  his 
luck."  It  \v'as  addressed  to  the  Colonel  of  the  First  Regi- 
ment of  the  Imperial  Guard,  Paris.  That  superscription 
had  been  suggested  by  Colonel  Halkett.  Rosamund  was  in 
favour  of  addressing  it  to  Versailles,  Xevil  to  the  Tuileries  ; 
but  Paris  could  hardly  fail  to  hit  the  mark,  and  ISTevil  waited 
for  the  reply,  half  expecting  an  appointment  on  the  French 
sands  :  for  the  act  of  posting  a  letter,  though  it  be  to  little 
short  of  the  Pleiades  even,  will  stamp  an  incredible  proceed- 
ing as  a  matter  of  business,  so  ready  is  tlie  ardent  mind  to 
take  footing  on  the  last  thing  done.  The  flight  of  ^Tr. 
Beauchamp's  letter  placed  it  in  the  common  order  of  occur- 
rences for  the  youthful  author  of  it.  Jack  Wilmore,  a  mess- 
mate, offered  to  second  him,  though  he  should  be  dismissed 
the  service  for  it.  Another  second  would  easily  be  founl 
somewhere  ;  for,  as  IS'evil  observed,  you  have  only  to  set 
these  affairs  going,  and  British  blood  rises :  we  are  not  the 
people  you  see  on  the  surface.  Wilmore's  father  was  a  par- 
son, for  instance.     What  did  he  do?     He  could  not   help 


BARONIAL  VIEWS  OP  THE  PRESENT  TIME.  21 

himself :  he  supplied  the  armj  and  navy  with  recruits  ! 
One  son  was  in  a  marching  regiment,  the  other  was  Jack, 
and  three  girls  had  vowed  never  to  quit  the  rectory  save  as 
brides  of  offic.'ers.  ]S'evil  thought  that  seemed  encouraging  ; 
we  were  evidently  not  a  nation  of  shopkeepers  at  heart ; 
and  he  quoted  sayings  of  Mr.  Stukely  Cnlbrett's,  in  which 
neither  his  ear  nor  Wilmore's  detected  the  under-ring 
Stukely  was  famous  for  :  as  that  England  had  saddled  her- 
self with  India  for  the  express  purpose  of  better  obeying  the 
Commandments  in  Europe ;  and  that  it  would  be  a  lament- 
able thing  for  the  Continent  and  our  doctrines  if  ever  beef 
should  fail  the  Briton,  and  such  like.  "  Depend  upon  it 
we're  a  fighting  nation  naturally,  Jack,"  said  Nevil.  "  How 
can  we  submit  I  .  .  .  liowever,  I  shall  not  be  impatient.  I 
dislike  duelling,  and  hate  war,  but  I  will  have  the  country 
respected."  They  planned  a  defence  of  the  country,  draw- 
ing their  strategy  from  magazine  articles  by  military  pens, 
reverberations  of  the  extinct  voices  of  the  daily  and  weekly 
journals,  customary  after  a  panic,  and  making  bloody  stands 
on  s})ots  of  extreme  pastoral  beauty,  which  they  visited  by 
coacli  and  rail,  looking  back  on  unfortified  London  with 
particular  melancholy. 

Rosamund's  word  may  be  trusted  that  she  dropped  the 
letter  into  a  London  post-office  in  pursuance  of  her  promise 
to  Xevil.  The  singular  fact  was  that  no  answer  to  it  ever 
arrived.  Nevil,  without  a  doubt  of  her  honesty,  proposed 
an  expedition  to  Paris  ;  he  was  ordered  to  join  his  ship,  and 
he  lay  moored  across  the  water  in  the  port  of  Bevisham, 
panting  for  notice  to  be  taken  of  him.  The  slight  of  the 
total  disregard  of  his  letter  now  affected  him  personally  ;  it 
took  him  some  time  to  get  over  this  indignity  put  upon  him, 
especially  because  of  his  being  under  the  impression  that 
the  country  suffered,  not  he  at  all.  The  letter  had  served 
its  object:  ever  since  the  transmission  of  it  the  menaces 
and  insults  had  ceased.  But  they  might  be  renewed,  and  he 
desired  to  stop  them  altogether.  His  last  feeling  was  one  of 
genuine  regret  that  Frenchmen  should  have  behaved  un- 
w^orthily  of  the  high  estimation  he  held  them  in.  With 
which  he  dismissed  the  affair. 

He  was  rallied  about  it  when  he  next  sat  at  his  uncle's 
table,  and  had  to  pardon  Rosamund  for  telling. 

Nevil  replied  modestly,  "  I  dare  say  you   think  me  half  a 


22  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

fool,  sir.  All  I  know  is,  I  waited  for  my  betters  to  speak 
first.     I  have  no  dislike  of  Frenchmen." 

Everard  shook  his  head  to  signify,  "  not  half.''  But  ho 
,was  gentle  enough  in  his  observations.  "  There's  a  motto, 
Ex  pede  Herculem.  You  stepped  out  for  the  dogs  to  judge 
better  of  us.  It's  an  infernally  tripping  motto  for  a  com- 
posite struct ui-e  like  the  kingdom  of  Great  Britain  and 
Manchestei',  boy  Xevil.  We  can  fight  foreigners  when  the 
time  comes."  He  directed  iS'evil  to  look  home,  and  cast  an 
eye  on  the  cotton-spinners,  with  the  remark  that  they  were 
binding  us  hand  and  foot  to  sell  us  to  the  biggest  buyer, 
and  were  not  Englishmen  but  "  Germans  and  Jews,  and 
quakers  and  hybrids,  diligent  clerks  and  speculators,  and 
commercial  travellers,  who  have  raised  a  foi'tune  from  foist- 
ing drugged  goods  on  an  idiot  population." 

He  loathed  them  for  the  curse  they  were  to  the  country. 
And  he  was  one  of  the  few  who  spoke  out.  The  fashion  was 
to  pet  them.  We  stood  against  them  ;  wei'e  half-hearted, 
and  were  beaten  ;  and  then  we  petted  them,  and  bit  by  bit 
our  privileges  were  torn  away.  We  made  lords  of  them  to 
catch  them,  and  they  grocei-s  of  us  by  way  of  a  return. 
*' Already,"  said  Everard,  "they  have  knocked  the  nation's 
head  off,  and  dry-rotted  the  bone  of  the  people." 

"Don't  they,"  Nevil  asked,  "belong  to  the  Liberal 
party?" 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  Everard  replied,  "  they  belong  to  any 
party  that  ujisets  the  party  above  them.  They  belong  to 
the  George  Foxe  party,  and  my  poultry-roosts  are  the  mark 
they  aim  at.  You  shall  have  a  glance  at  the  manufacturing 
district  some  day.  You  shall  see  the  machines  they  work 
with.  You  shall  see  the  miserable  lank-jawed  half-stewed 
pantaloons  they've  managed  to  make  of  Englishmen  there. 
My  blood's  past  boiling.  They  work  young  children  in  their 
factories  from  morning  to  night.  Their  manufactories  are 
spreading  like  the  webs  of  the  devil  to  suck  the  blood  of  the 
country.  In  that  district  of  theirs  an  epidemic  levels  men 
like  a  disease  in  sheep.  Skeletons  can't  make  a  stand.  On 
the  top  ot  it  all  they  sing  Sunday  tunes !" 

This  behaviour  of  corn-law  agitators  and  protectors  of 
poachers  was  an  hypocrisy  too  horrible  for  comment. 
Everard   sipped   claret.      Nevil   lashed   his    head    for   the 


BARONIAL  VIEWS  OP  THE  PRESENT  TIME.  23 

clear  idea  which  objurgation  insists  upon  implanting,  but 
batters  to  pieces  in  the  act. 

"  Manchester's  the  belly  of  this  country !"  Everard  con- 
tinued. "  So  long  as  Manchester  flourishes,  we're  a  country 
governed  and  led  by  the  belly.  The  head  and  the  legs  of 
the  country  are  sound  still;  I  don't  guarantee  it  for  long, 
but  the  middle's  rapacious  and  corrupt.  Take  it  on  a  ques- 
tion of  foreign  aifairs,  it's  an  alderman  after  a  feast.  Bring 
it  upon  home  politics,  you  meet  a  wolf." 

The  faitbiul  Whig  veteran  spoke  with  jolly  admiration  of 
the  speech  of  a,  famous  Tory  chief. 

"  That  was  the  way  to  talk  to  them  !  Denounce  them 
traitors !  Up  whip,  and  set  the  ruffians  capering  !  Hit 
t  hem  facers  !  Our  men  are  always  for  the  too-clever  trick. 
They  pluck  the  sprouts  and  eat  them,  as  if  the  loss  of  a 
sprout  or  two  thinned  Manchester!  Your  policy  of  absorp- 
tion is  good  enough  when  you're  dealing  with  fragments. 
It's  a  devilish  unlucky  thing  to  attempt  with  a  concrete 
mass.  You  might  as  well  ask  your  head  to  absorb  a  wall 
by  running  at  it  like  a  pugnacious  nigger.  I  don't  want 
you  to  go  into  Parliament  ever.  You're  a  fitter  man  out  of 
it ;  but  if  ever  you're  bitten — and  it's  the  curse  of  our 
country  to  have  politics  as  well  as  the  other  diseases — don't 
follo\y  a  flag,  be  independent,  keep  a  free  vote:  remember 
how^'ve  been  tied,  and  hold  foot  against  Manchester.  Do 
it  blindfold ;  you  don't  want  counselling,  you're  sure  to  be 
I'ii^ht.  I'll  lay  you  a  blood-brood  mare  to  a  cab-stand 
skeleton,  you'll  have  an  easy  conscience  and  deserve  the 
thanks  of  the  country." 

JSTevil  listened  gravely.  The  soundness  of  the  head  ana 
logs  of  the  country  he  took  for  granted.  The  inflated  state 
of  the  unchivalrous  middle,  denominated  Manchester,  terri- 
fied him.  Could  it  be  true  that  England  was  betraying  signs 
of  decay  ?  and  signs  how  ignoble  !  Half-a-dozen  crescent 
lines  cunningly  turned,  sketched  her  figure  before  the  world, 
and  the  reflection  for  one  ready  to  die  upholding  her  was 
that  the  portrait  was  no  caricature.  Such  an  emblematic 
presentation  of  the  land  of  his  filial  affection  haunted  him 
with  hideous  mockeries.  Surely  the  foreigner  hearing  our 
boasts  of  her  must  compare  as  to  showmen  bawling  the 
attractions  of  a  Fat  Lady  at  a  fair  I 


24 

Swoln  Manchester  bore  the  blame  of  it.  Everaid  exulted 
to  hear  his  young  echo  attack  the  cotton-spinners.  But 
Nevil  was  for  a  plan,  a  system,  immediate  action ;  the 
descending  among  the  people,  and  taking  an  initiative, 
•LEADING  them,  insisting  on  their  following-,  not  standing 
aloof  and  shrugging. 

"We  lead  them  in  war,"  said  he;  "  why  not  in  })eace? 
There's  a  front  for  peace  as  well  as  war,  and  that's  our  place 
rightly.  AYe're  pushed  aside ;  why,  it  seems  to  me  we're 
treated  like  old-fashioned  ornaments  !  The  fault  must  be 
ours.  Shrugging  and  sneering  is  about  as  honourable  as 
blazing  fireworks  over  your  own  defeat.  Back  we  have  to 
go  !  that's  the  point,  sir.  And  as  for  jeering  the  cottoii- 
spinneis,  I  can't  while  they've  the  lead  of  us.  AVe  let  them 
have  it!  And  we  have  thrice  the  st;ike  in  the  country.  I 
don't  mean  properties  and  titles." 

"  Deuce  you  don't,"  said  his  uncle. 

"  I  mean  our  names,  our  histories  ;  I  mean  our  duties. 
As  for  titles,  the  way  to  defend  them  is  to  be  worthy  of  them." 

"Damned  fine  speech,"  remarked  Everard.  "  Kow  you 
get  out  of  that  trick  of  prize-orationing.  I  call  it  snuft'ery, 
sir ;  it's  all  to  your  own  nose  !  You're  talking  to  me,  not  to 
a  galler}'.  '  Worthy  of  them  !'  Csesar  wraps  his  heail  in  his 
robe :  he  gets  his  dig  in  the  ribs  for  all  his  attitudinizing. 
It's  very  well  for  a  man  to  talk  like  that  who  owns  no  more 
than  his  bare-bodkin  life,  poor  devil.  Tall  talk's  his  jewelry  : 
he  must  have  his  dandification  in  bunkum.  You  ought  to 
know  better.  Property  and  titles  are, worth  having,  whether 
you  ai'e  '  worthy  of  them'  or  a  disgrace  to  your  class.  The 
best  way  of  defending  them  is  to  keep  a  strong  fist,  and 
take  care  you  don't  draw  your  fore-foot  back  more  than 
enough." 

"Please  projjose  something  to  be  done,"  said  iS'evil, 
depressed  by  the  recommendation  of  that  attitude. 

Everard  proposed  a  fight  for  every  privilege  his  class 
possessed.  "They  say,"  he  said,  "  a  nobleman  fighting  the 
odds  is  a  sight  for  the  gods  :  and  I  wouldn't  yield  an  inch 
of  ground.  It's  no  use  calling  things  by  fine  names  —  the 
country's  ruined  by  cowardice.  Poui-suivez  !  I  cry.  Haro  ! 
at  them !  The  biggest  heart  wins  in  the  end.  I  haven't  a 
doubt  about  that.  And  I  haven't  a  doubt  we  carry  the 
tonnao-e." 


(,  UNIVj 

BARONIAL  VIEWS  OF  THE  PRESENT  TIME.  25 

"There's    the   people,"  sighed    Nevil,   entangled   in   his 
uncle's  haziness. 
"  What  people  ?'* 

"I  suppose  the  people  of  Great  Britain  count,  sir." 
"  Of  course  they  do ;  when  the  battle's  done,  the  fight  lost 
and  won." 

"  Do  you  expect  the  people  to  look  on,  sir  ?" 
"  The  people  always  wait  for  the  winner,  boy  Nevil." 
The  young  fellow  exclaimed  despondingly,  "  If  it  were  a 
race !" 

"  It's  like  a  race,  and  we're  confoundedly  out  of  training," 
said  Everard. 

There  he  rested.  A  mediaeval  gentleman  with  the  docile 
notions  of  the  twelfth  century,  complacently  driving  them 
to  grass  and  wattling  them  in  the  nineteenth,  could  be  of  no 
nse  to  a  boy  trying  to  think,  though  he  could  set  the  youngstc^r 
galloping.  Nevil  wandered  about  the  woods  of  Steynbani, 
disinclined  to  shoot  and  lend  a  hand  to  country  sports.  ''Tlie 
popping  of  the  guns  of  his  uncle  and  guests  hung  about  his 
ears  much  like  their  speech,  which  was  unobjectionable  in 
itself,  but  not  sufficient ;  a  little  hard,  he  thought,  a  little 
idle.  He  wanted  something,  and  wanted  them  to  give  their 
time  and  energy  to  something,  that  was  not  to  be  had  in  a 
market.  The  nobles,  he  felt  sure,  might  resume  their  natural 
alliance  with  the  people,  and  lead  them,  as  they  did  of  old, 
to  the  battle-field.  How  might  they  ?  A  comely  Sussex 
lass  could  not  well  tell  him  how.  Sarcastic  reports  of  the 
troublesome  questioner  represented  him  applying  to  a  nymph 
of  the  country  for  enlightenment.  He  thrilled  surprisingly 
under  the  charm  of  feminine  beauty.  "  The  fellow's  sound 
at  bottom,"  his  uncle  said,  hearing  of  his  having  really  been 
seen  walking  in  the  complete  form  proper  to  his  budding 
age,  that  is,  in  two  halves.  ISTevil  showed  that  he  had  gained 
an  acquainta,nce  with  the  struggles  of  the  neighbouring- 
agricultural  poor  to  live  and  x'ear  their  children.  His  uncle's 
table  roared  at  his  enumeration  of  the  sickly  little  beings, 
consumptive  or  bandy-legged,  within  a  i-adius  of  five  miles 
of  Steynham.  Action  was  what  he  wanted,  Everard  said. 
Nevil  perhaps  thought  the  same,  for  he  dashed  out  of  his 
mooning  with  a  wave  of  the  Tory  standard,  delighting  the 
ladies,  though  in  that  conflict  of  the  Lion  and  the  Unicom 
(which  was  a  Tory  song)  he  seemed  rather  to  wish  to  goad 


26  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

the  dear  lion  than  crush  the  one-horned  intru.^ive  apsfart. 
His  calling  on  the  crack  corps  of  Peers  to  enrol  themselves 
forthwith  in  the  front  ranks,  and  to  anticipate  opposition  by- 
initiating  measures,  and  so  cut  out  that  funnj  old  crazy 
old  galleon,  the  People,  from  under  the  batteries  of  the 
enemy,  highly  amused  the  gentlemen. 

Before  rejoining  his  ship,  N"evil  paid  his  customary  short 
visit  of  ceremony  to  his  great-aunt  Beauchamp — a  venerable 
lady  past  eighty,  hitherto  divided  from  him  in  sympathy  by 
her  dislike  of  his  uncle  Everard,  who  had  once  been  his 
living  hero.  That  was  when  he  was  in  frocks,  and  still  the 
tenacious  fellow  could  not  bear  to  hear  his  uncle  spoken 
ill  of. 

"  All  the  men  of  that  family  are  heartless,  and  he  i»  a 
man  of  wood,  my  dear,  and  a  bad  man."  the  old  lady  said. 
"  He  should  have  kept  you  at  school,  and  sent  you  to  col- 
lege. You  want  reading  and  teaching  and  talking  to. 
Such  a  house  as  that  is  should  never  be  a  home  for  you." 
She  hinted  at  Rosamund.  Nevil  defended  the  persecuted 
woman,  but  with  no  l)etter  success  than  from  the  attacks 
of  the  Romfrey  ladies  ;  with  this  difference,  however,  that 
these  decried  the  woman's  vicious  arts,  and  Mistress  Elizabeth 
Mary  Beauchiimp  ])ui  all  the  sin  upon  the  man.  Such  a  man! 
she  said.  "Let  me  hear  that  he  has  married  her,  T  will 
not  utter  another  word."  Nevil  echoed,  "Married!"  in  a 
different  key. 

"  I  am  as  much  of  an  aristocrat  as  any  of  you,  only  I  rank 
morality  higher,"  said  Mrs.  Beauchamp.  "  ^^'hen  you  were 
a  child  I  offered  to  take  you  and  make  you  my  heir,  and  1 
would  have  educated  you.  You  shall  see  a  great-nephew 
of  mine  that  I  did  educate;  he  is  eating  his  dinners  for  the 
bar  in  London,  and  come*  to  me  every  Sunday.  T  shall 
marry  him  to  a  good  girl,  and  I  shall  show  your  uncle  what 
my  kind  of  man-making  is." 

Nevil  had  no  desire  to  meet  the  other  great-nephew, 
especially  when  he  was  aware  of  the  extraordinary  circum- 
stance that  a  Beauchamp  great-niece,  having  no  money, 
had  bestowed  her  hand  on  a  Manchester  man  defunct, 
whereof  this  young  Blackburn  Tuckham,  the  law^yer,  was 
issue.  He  took  his  leave  of  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Beauchamp, 
respecting  her  for  her  constitutional  health  and  brightness, 
and  reo-rettino-  for  the  sake  of  the  country  that  she  had  not 


BARONIAL  VIEWS  OF  THE  PRESEl^T  TIME,  27 

married  to  give  England  men  and  women  resembling  her. 
On  the  whole  he  considered  her  wiser  in  her  prescription 
for  the  malady  besetting  him  than  his  uncle.  He  knew 
that  action  was  but  a  temporary  remedy.  College  would 
have  been  his  chronic  medicine,  and  the  old  lady's  acuteness 
in  seeing  it  impressed  him  forcibly.  She  had  given  him  a 
peaceable  two  days  on  the  Upper  Thames,  in  an  atmosphere 
of  plain  good  sense  and  just-mindedness.  He  wrote  to 
thank  her,  saying:  "My  England  at  sea  will  be  your 
parlour-window  looking  down  the  grass  to  the  river  and 
rushes ;  and  when  you  do  me  the  honour  to  write,  please 
tell  me  the  names  of  those  wild- flowers  groNving  alono-  the 
banks  in  Summer."  The  old  lady  replied  immediately, 
enclosing  a  cheque  for  fifty  pounds :  "  Colonel  Halkett 
informs  me  you  are  under  cloud  at  Steynhani,  and  I  have 
thought  you  may  be  in  want  of  pocket-money.  The  wild- 
flowers  are  willow-herb,  meadow-sweet,  and  loosestrife.  I 
shall  be  glad  when  you  are  here  in  Summer  to  see  them." 

N^evil  dispatched  the  following :  "I  thank  you,  but  I  shall 
not  cash  the  cheque.  The  Steynham  tale  is  this :  I  hap- 
pened to  be  out  at  night,  and  stopped  the  keepers  in  chase 
of  a  young  fellow  trespassing.  1  caught  him  myself,  but 
recognized  him  as  one  of  a  family  I  take  an  interest  in,  and 
let  him  run  before  they  came  up.  My  uncle  heard  a  gun ; 
I  sent  the  head  gamekeeper  word  in  the  morning  to  out 
with  it  all.  Uncle  E.  was  annoyed,  and  we  had  a  rough 
parting.  If  you  are  rewarding  me  for  this,  I  have  no  rioht 
to  it." 

Mrs.  Beauchamp  rejoined  :  "Tour  profession  should  teach 
you  subordination,  if  it  does  nothing  else  that  is  valuable  to 
a  Christian  gentleman.  You  will  receive  fiom  the  pub- 
lisher the  'Life  and  Letters  of  Lord  Collingwood,'  whom  I 
have  it  in  my  mind  that  a  young  midshipman  should  task 
himself  to  imitate.     Spend  the  money  as  you  think  fit." 

Nevil's  ship,  commanded  by  Captain  Robert  Hall  (a  most 
gallant  ofiicer,  one  of  his  heroes,  and  of  Lancashire  origin, 
strangely!),  flew  to  the  South  American  station,  in  and 
about  Lord  Cochrane's  waters ;  then  as  swiftl}^  back.  For, 
like  the  frail  Norwegian  bark  on  the  edge  of  the  maelstrom, 
liker  to  a  country  of  conflicting  interests  and  passions,  that 
is  not  mentally  on  a  level  with  its  good  fortune,  England 
was    drifting    into    foreign    complications.       A    paralyzed 


28  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Minister  proclaimed  it.  The  governing  people,  which  is 
looked  to  for  direction  in  grave  dilemmas  by  its  repre- 
sentatives and  reflectors,  shouted  that  it  had  been  accused 
of  pusillanimity.  No  one  had  any  desire  for  war,  only  we 
really  had  (and  it  was  perfectly  true)  been  talking  gigantic 
nonsense  of  peace,  and  of  the  everlastingness  of  the  exchange 
of  fruits  for  money,  with  angels  waving  raw-groceries  of 
Eden  in  joy  of  the  commercial  picture.  Therefore,  to 
correct  the  excesses  of  that  fit,  we  held  the  standing  by 
the  Moslem,  on  behalf  of  the  Mediterranean  (and  the 
Moslem  is  one  of  our  customers,  bearing  an  excellent  repu- 
tation for  the  payment  of  debts),  to  be  good,  granting  the 
necessity.  We  deplored  the  necessity.  The  Press  wept 
over  it.  That,  however,  was  not  the  politic  tone  for  us 
while  the  Imperial  berg  of  Polar  ice  watched  us  keenly ; 
and  the  Press  proceeded  to  remind  us  that  we  had  once  been 
bull-dogs.  Was  there  not  an  animal  within  us  having  a 
right  to  a  turn  now  and  then  ?  And  was  it  not  (Falstaff,  on 
a  calm  world,  was  quoted)  for  the  benefit  of  our  constitutions 
now  and  then  to  loosen  the  animal  ?  Granting  the  necessity, 
of  course.  By  dint  of  incessantly  speaking  of  the  necessity 
we  granted  it  unknowingly.  The  lighter  hearts  regarded 
our  period  of  monotonously  lyrical  prosperity  as  a  man 
•sensible  of  fresh  morning  air  looks  back  on  the  snoring 
bolster.  Many  of  the  gi'aver  were  glad  of  a  change.  After 
all  that  maundering  over  the  blessed  peace  which  brings 
the  raisin  and  the  currant  for  the  pudding,  and  shuts  up  the 
ce  mon  with  a  sheep's  head,  it  became  a  principle  of  popular 
taste  to  descant  on  the  vivifying  virtues  of  war ;  even  as, 
after  ten  months  of  money-mongering  in  smoky  London,  the 
citizen  hails  the  sea-breeze  and  an  immersion  in  unruly 
brine,  despite  the  cost,  that  breeze  and  brine  may  make  a 
man  of  him,  according  to  the  doctor's  prescription :  sweet  is 
home,  but  health  is  sweeter  !  Then  was  there  another 
curious  exhibition  of  us.  Gentlemen,  to  the  exact  number 
of  the  Graces,  dressed  in  drab  of  an  ancient  cut,  made  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  icy  despot,  and  besought  him  to  give  way 
for  Piety's  sake.  He,  courteous,  colossal,  and  immoveable, 
waved  them  homeward.  They  returned  "and  were  hooted 
for  belying  the  bellicose  by  their  mission,  and  interpreting 
too  well  the  peaceful.  They  were  the  unparalyzed  Ministers 
of  the  occasion,  but  helpless. 


BARONIAL  VIEWS  OP  THE  PRESENT  TIME.  29 

And  now  came  war,  the  pnrifier  and  the  pestilence. 

The  cry  of  the  English  people  for  war  was  pretty  general, 
as  far  as  the  criers  went.  They  put  on  their  Sabbath  face 
3oncerning  the  declaration  of  war,  and  told  with  approval 
how  the  Eoyal  hand  had  trembled  in  committing  itself  to  the 
^.dvm.  of  signature  to  which  its  action  is  limited.  If  there 
was  money  to  be  paid,  there  was  a  bngbear  to  be  slain  for 
it;  and  a  bugbear  is  as  obnoxious  to  the  repose  of  commercial 
communities  as  rivals  are  to  kings. 

The  cry  for  war  was  absolutely  nnanimons,  and  a 
supremely  national  cry,  Everard  Romfrey  said,  for  it  ex- 
cluded the  cotton- spinners. 

He  smacked  his  hands,  crowing  at  the  vociferations  of 
disgust  of  tliose  negrophiles  and  sweaters  of  Christians, 
whose  isolated  clamour  amid  the  popular  uproar  sounded 
of  gagged  mouths. 

One  of  the  half-stifled  cotton-spinners,  a  notorious  one, 
a  spouter  of  rank  sedition  and  hater  of  aristocracy,  a  political 
poacher,  managed  to  make  himself  heard.  He  was  tossed 
to  the  Press  for  a  morsel,  and  tossed  back  to  the  people  in 
strips.  Evei-ard  had  a  sharp  return  of  appetite  in  reading 
the  daily  and  weekly  journals.  They  printed  logic,  they 
printed  sense ;  they  abused  the  treasonable  barking  cur 
unmercifully.  They  printed  almost  as  much  as  he  would 
have  uttered,  excepting  the  strong  salt  of  his  similes,  liken- 
ing that  rascal  and  his  crew  to  the  American  weed  in  oxir 
waters,  to  the  rotting  wild  bee's  nest  in  our  trees,  to  the 
worm  in  our  ships'  timbers,  and  to  lamentable  afflicti,ons 
of  the  human  frame,  and  of  sheep,  oxen,  honest  hounds. 
Manchester  was  in  eclipse.  The  world  of  England  discovered 
that  the  peace-party  which  opposed  was  the  actual  cause  of 
the  war :  never  was  indication  clearer.  But  my  business  is 
with  Mr.  Beauchamp,  to  know  whom,  and  partly  understand 
his  conduct  in  after-days,  it  will  be  as  well  to  take  a  bird's- 
eye  glance  at  him  through  the  war. 

"  ^ow,"  said  Everard,  "  we  shall  see  what  stuff  there  is 
in  that  fellow  Xevil." 

He  expected,  as  you  may  imagine,  a  true  young  Beau- 
champ- Romfrey  'to  be  straining  his  collar  like  a  :  jash- 
houud. 


30  BEAUCflAMP's  CAREER. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

A   GLraPSE   OF  NEVIL    IN   ACTION. 

The  yoTing  gentleman  to  wliom  Everard  Romfrey  trans- 
ferred his  combative  spirit  dispatched  a  letter  from  the 
Dardanelles,  requesting  his  nncle  not  to  ask  him  for  a  spark 
of  enthusiasm.  He  despised  our  Moslem  allies,  he  said,  and 
thought  with  pity  of  the  miserable  herds  of  men  in  regiments 
marching  across  the  steppes  at  the  bidding  of  a  despot  that 
we  were  helping  to  popularize.  He  certainly  wrote  in  the 
tone  of  a  jejune  politician;  pardonable  stuff  to  seniors  enter- 
taining similar  opinions,  but  most  exasperating  when  it  runs 
counter  to  them :  though  one  question  put  by  Nevil  was  not 
easily  answerable.  He  wished  to  know  whether  the  English 
people  would  be  so  anxious  to  be  at  it  if  their  man  stood  on 
the  opposite  shore  and  talked  of  trying  conclusions  on  their 
green  fields.  And  he  suggested  that  they  had  become  so 
ready  for  war  because  of  their  having  grown  ratlier  ashamed 
of  themselves,  and  for  the  special  reason  that  they  could  have 
it  at  a  distance. 

"  The  rascal's  liver's  out  of  order,"  Everard  said. 

Coming  to  the  sentence  : — "  Who  speaks  out  in  this  crisis  ? 
There  is  one,  and  I  am  with  him ;"  Mr.  Romfrey's  compas- 
sionate sentiments  veered  round  to  irate  amazement.  For 
the  person  alluded  to  was  indeed  the  infamous  miauling 
cotton- spinner.  Nevil  admired  him.  He  said  so  bluntly. 
He  pointed  to  that  traitorous  George-Foxite  as  the  one 
heroical  Englishman  of  his  day,  declaring  that  he  felt  bound 
in  honour  to  make  known  his  admiration  for  the  man ;  and 
he  hoped  his  uncle  would  excuse  him.  "  IF  we  differ,  I  am 
sorry,  sir ;  but  I  should  be  a  coward  to  withhold  what  I 
think  of  him  when  he  has  all  England  against  him,  and  he 
is  in  the  right,  as  England  will  discover.  I  maintain  he 
speaks  wisely — I  don't  mind  saying,  like  a  prophet ;  and  he 
speaks  on  behalf  of  the  poor  as  well  as  of  the  country.  He 
appears  to  me  the  only  public  man  who  looks  to  the  state  of 
the  poor — I  mean,  their  interests.  They  pay  for  war,  and  if 
we  are  to  have  peace  at  homo  and  strengll)  for  a  really 
national  war,  the  only  war  we  can  ever  call  necessary,  the 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  NEVIL  IN  ACTION.  31 

poor  mnst  be  contented.  He  sees  that.  I  shall  not  rnn  the 
risk  of  angering  you  by  writing  to  defend  him,  unless  I  hear 
of  his  being  shamefully  mishandled,  and  the  bearer  of  an 
old  name  can  be  of  service  to  him.  I  cannot  say  less,  and 
will  say  no  more." 

Everard  apostrophized  his  absent  nephew :  "  You  jackass !' 

I  am  reminded  by  Mr.  Romfrey's  profound  disappointment 
in  the  youth,  that  it  will  be  repeatedly  shared  by  many 
others :  and  I  am  bound  to  forewarn  readers  of  this  history 
that  there  is  no  plot  in  it.  The  hero  is  chargeable  with  the 
official  disqualification  of  constantly-offending  prejudices, 
never  seeking  to  please ;  and  all  the  while  it  is  upon  him 
the  narrative  hangs.  To  be  a  public  favourite  is  his  last 
thought.  Beauchampism,  as  one  confronting  him  calls  it, 
may  be  said  to  stand  for  nearly  everything  which  is  the 
obverse  of  Byronism,  and  rarely  woos  your  sympathy,  shuns 
the  statuesque  pathetic,  or  any  kind  of  posturing.  For 
Beauchamp  will  not  even  look  at  happiness  to  mourn  its 
absence  ;  melodious  lamentations,  demoniacal  scorn,  are 
quite  alien  to  him.  His  faith  is  in  working  and  fighting. 
With  every  inducement  to  offer  himself  for  a  romantic 
figure,  he  despises  the  pomades  and  curling-irons  of  modern 
romance,  its  shears  and  its  labels :  in  fine,  every  one  of  those 
positive  things  by  whose  aid,  and  by  some  adroit  flourishing 
of  them,  the  nimbus  known  as  a  mysterious  halo  is  produced 
about  a  gentleman's  head.  And  a  highly  alluring  adornment 
it  is  !  We  are  all  given  to  lose  our  solidity  and  fly  at  it ; 
although  the  faithful  mirror  of  fiction  has  been  showing  us 
latterly  that  a  too  superhuman  beauty  has  disturbed  popular 
belief  in  the  bare  beginnings  of  the  existence  of  heroes :  but 
this,  very  likely,  is  nothing  more  than  a  fit  of  Republicanism 
in  the  nursery,  and  a  deposition  of  the  leading  doll  for  lack 
of  variety  in  him.  That  conqueror  of  circumstances  will, 
the  dullest  soul  may  begin  predicting,  return  on  his  cockhorse 
to  favour  and  authority.  Meantime  the  exhibition  of  a  hero 
whom  circumstances  overcome,  and  who  does  not  weep  or  ask 
you  for  a  tear,  who  continually  forfeits  attractiveness  by 
declining  to  better  his  own  fortunes,  must  run  the  chances 
of  a  novelty  during  the  interregnum.  Nursery  Legitimists 
will  be  against  him  to  a  man  ;  Republicans  likewise,  after  a 


32  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREBE. 

queer  sniff  at  his  pretensions,  it  is  to  be  feared.  For  me,  1 
have  so  little  command  over  him  that,  in  spite  of  my  nursery- 
tastes,  he  drags  me  whither  he  lists.  It  is  artless  art  and 
monstrous  innovation  to  present  so  wilful  a  figure,  but  were 
I  to  create  a  striking  fable  for  him,  and  set  him  off  with  scenic 
effects  and  contrasts,  it  would  be  only  a  momentary  tonic  to 
you,  to  him  instant  death.  He  could  not  live  in  such  an 
atmosphere.  The  simple  truth  has  to  be  told :  how  he  loved 
his  country,  and  for  another  and  a  broader  love,  gTowing 
out  of  his  first  passion,  fought  it ;  and  being  small  by  com- 
parison, and  finding  no  giant  of  the  Philistines  disposed  to 
receive  a  stone  in  his  fore-skull,  pummelled  the  obmutescent 
mass,  to  the  confusion  of  a  conceivable  epic.  His  indifferent 
England  refused  it  to  him.  That  is  all  I  can  say.  The 
greater  power  of  the  two,  she  seems,  with  a  quiet  derision 
that  does  not  belie  her  amiable  passivity,  to  have  reduced  in 
Beauchamp's  career  the  boldest  readiness  for  public  action, 
and  some  good  stout  efforts  besides,  to  the  flat  result  of  an 
optically  discernible  influence  of  our  hero's  character  in  the 
domestic  circle;  perhaps  a  faintly-outlined  circle  or  two 
beyond  it.  But  this  does  not  forbid  him  to  be  ranked  as 
one  of  the  most  distinguishing  of  her  children  of  the  day  he 
lived  in.  Blame  the  victrix  if  you  think  he  should  have 
been  liveliei-. 

Nevil  soon  had  to  turn  his  telescope  from  politics.  The 
torch  of  war  was  actually  lighting',  and  he  was  not  fashioned 
to  be  heedless  of  what  surrounded  him.  Our  diplomacy, 
after  dancing  with  all  the  suppleness  of  stilts,  gravely 
resigoed  the  gift  of  motion.  Our  dauntless  Lancastrian 
thundered  like  a  tempest  over  a  gambling  tent,  disregarded. 
Our  worthy  people,  consenting  to  the  doctrine  that  war  is  a 
scourge,  contracted  the  habit  of  thinking  it,  in  this  case,  the 
dire  necessity  which  is  the  sole  excuse  for  giving  way  to  an 
irritated  pngnacitv,  and  sucked  the  comforting  cai'amel  of  an 
alliance  with  their  troublesome  next-door  neighbour,  profuse 
in  comfits  as  in  scorpions.  N"evil  detected  that  politic  element 
of  their  promptitude  for  war.  His  recollections  of  dissatis- 
faction in  former  days  assisted  him  to  perceive  the  nature  of 
it,  but  he  was  too  young  to  hold  his  own  against  the  hubbub 
of  a  noisy  people,  much  too  yoang  to  remain  sceptical  of  a 
modem  people's  enthusiasm  for  war  while   journals  were 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  NEVIL  IN  ACTION.  33 

testifying'  to  it  down  the  length  of  their  colnmns,  and  letters 
from  home  palpitated  with  it,  and  shipmates  yawned  wearily 
for  the  signal,  and  shiploads  of  red  coats  and  blue,  infantry, 
cavalry,  artillery,  were  singing  farewell  to  the  girl  at  home, 
and  hurrah  for  anything  in  foreign  waters.  He  joined  the 
stream  with  a  cordial  spirit.  Since  it  must  be  so  !  The  wind 
of  that  haughty  proceeding  of  the  Great  Bear  in  putting  a 
paw  over  the  neutral  brook  brushed  his  clieek  unpleasantly. 
He  clapped  hands  for  the  fezzy  defenders  of  the  border 
fortress,  and  when  the  order  came  for  the  fleet  to  enter  the 
old  romantic  sea  of  storms  and  fables,  he  wrote  home  a  letter 
fit  for  his  uncle  Everard  to  read.  Then  there  was  the  sailing 
and  the  landing,  and  the  march  up  the  heights,  which  Nevil 
was  condemned  to  look  at.  To  his  joy  he  obtained  an  appoint- 
ment on  shore,  and  after  that  Everard  heard  of  him  from 
other  channels.  The  two  were  of  a  mind  when  the  savage 
winter  advanced  which  froze  the  attack  of  the  city,  and  might 
be  imaLei  as  the  hoar  god  of  hostile  elements  pointing  a 
hand  to  the  line  reached,  and  menacing  at  one  farther  step. 
Both  blamed  the  Government,  but  they  divided  as  to  the 
origin  of  governmental  inefficiency  ;  ^N'evil  accusing  the  Lords 
guilty  of  foulest  sloth,  Everard  the  Quakers  of  dry-rotting 
the  country.  He  passed  with  a  shrug  Nevil's  puling  outcry 
for  the  enemy  as  well  as  our  own  poor  fellows :  "  At  his 
steppes  again!  "  And  he  had  to  be  forgiving  when  reports 
came  of  his  nephew's  turn  for  overdoing  his  duty :  "  show- 
fighting,"  as  he  termed  it. 

"  Braggadocioing  in  deeds  is  only  next  bad  to  mouthing 
it,"  he  wrote  very  rationally.  "  Stick  to  your  line.  Don't 
go  out  of  it  till  you  are  ordered  out.  Remember  that  we 
want  soldiers  and  sailors,  we  don't  want  suicides.''  He  con- 
descended to  these  italics,  considering  impressiveness  to  be 
urgent.  In  his  heart,  notwithstanding  his  implacably  clear 
judgement,  he  was  passibly  well  pleased  with  the  congratu- 
lations encompassing  him  on  account  of  his  nephew's  gal- 
lantry at  a  period  of  dejection  in  Britain :  for  the  winter 
was  dreadful ;  every  kind  heart  that  went  to  bed  ^vith  cold 
feet  felt  acutely  for  our  soldiers  on  the  frozen  heights,  and 
thoughts  of  heroes  were  as  good  as  warming-pans.  Heroes 
we  would  have.  It  happens  in  war  as  in  wit,  that  all  the 
birds  of  wonder  fly  to  a  flaring  reputation.  He  that  has 
done  one  wild  thing  must  necessarily  have  done  the  other  j 

D 


34  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

80  Nevil  found  himself  standing  in  the  thick  of  a  fame  that 
blew  rank  eulogies  on  him  for  acts  he  had  not  performed. 
The  Earl  of  Romfrey  forwarded  hampers  and  a  letter  of 
praise.  "They  tell  me  that  while  you  were  facing  the 
enemy,  temporarily  attaching  yourself  to  one  of  the  regi- 
ments— I  forget  which,  though  I  have  heard  it  named — you 
sprang  out  under  fire  on  an  eagle  clawing  a  hare.  I  like 
that.  I  hope  you  had  the  benefit  of  the  hare.  She  is  our 
property .  und  I  have  issued  an  injunction  that  she  shall  not 
go  into  the  newspapers."  Everard  was  entirely  of  a  con- 
trary opinion  concerning  the  episode  of  eagle  and  hare, 
though  it  was  a  case  of  a  bird  of  prey  interfering  with  an 
object  of  the  chase.  N'evLl  wrote  home  most  entreatingly 
and  im]ieratively,  like  one  wincing,  begging  him  to  contra- 
dict that  and  certain  other  stories,  and  pi-escribing  tlie  form 
of  a  public  renunciation  of  his  proclaimed  part  in  them. 
"  The  hare,"  he  sent  word,  "  is  the  property  of  young 
Michell  of  the  Rodney,  and  he  is  the  humanest  and  the  gal- 
lantest  fellow  in  the  service.  I  have  written  to  my  Lord. 
Pray  help  to  rid  me  of  burdens  that  make  me  feel  like  a 
robber  and  impostor." 

Everai'd  replied  : 

"  I  have  a  letter  from  your  captain,  informing  me  that  I 
am  unlikely  to  see  you  home  unless  you  learn  to  hold  your- 
self in.  I  wish  you  were  in  another  battery  than  Robert 
Hall's.  He  forgets  the  force  of  example,  however  much  of 
a  dab  he  may  be  at  precept.  But  there  you  are,  and  please 
clap  a  hundredweight  on  your  appetite  for  figuring,  will 
you.  Do  you  think  there  is  any  good  in  helping  to  Frenchify 
our  army  ?  I  loathe  a  fellow  who  shoots  at  a  medal.  I 
T^•ager  he  is  easy  enough  to  be  caught  by  circumvention — ■ 
put  me  in  the  open  with  him.  Tom  Biggot,  the  boxer,  went 
over  to  Paris,  and  stood  in  the  ring  with  one  of  their  dancing 
pugilists,  and  the  first  round  he  got  a  crack  on  the  chin  from 
the  ros lie's  foot;  the  second  round  he  caught  him  by  the 
lifted  leg,  and  punished  him  till  pec  was  all  he  could  say  of 
peccavi.  Fight  the  straightforward  fight.  Hang  elan ! 
Battle  is  a  game  of  give  and  take,  and  if  our  men  get 
elanned,  we  shall  see  them  refusing  to  come  up  to  time. 
This  new  crossing  and  medalling  is  the  devil's  own  notion 
for  upsetting  a  solid  British  line,  and  tempting  fellows  to 
get  invalided  that  they  may  blaze  it  before  the  shopkeepers 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  NEYIL  IN  ACTION.  35 

and  fheir  wives  in  the  city.  Give  ns  an  army! — ^none  of 
your  caperers.  Here  are  lots  of  circus sv  heroes  coming 
home  to  rest  after  their  fatigues.  One  was  spouting  at  a 
public  dinner  yesterday  night.  He  went  into  it  upright, 
and  he  ran  out  of  it  upright — at  the  head  of  his  men  ! — and 
here  he  is  feasted  by  the  citizens  aud  making  a  speech 
upright,  and  my  boy  fronting  the  enemy !" 

Everard's  involuntary  break-down  from  his  veteran's 
roughness  to  a  touch  of  feeling  thrilled  Nevil,  who  began  to 
perceiA'-e  what  his  uncle  was  driving  at  when  he  rebuked  the 
coxcombry  of  the  field,  and  spoke  of  the  description  of  com- 
pliment your  hero  was  paying  Englishmen  in  affecting  to 
give  them  examples  of  bravery  and  preternatural  coolness. 
Xevil  sent  home  humble  confessions  of  guilt  in  this  respect, 
with  fresh  praises  of  young  Michell :  for  though  Everard, 
as  I^evil  recognized  it,  was  pei-fectly  right  in  the  abstract, 
and  generally  right,  there  are  times  ^Nhen  an  example  is 
needed  by  brave  men — times  when  the  fiery  furnace  of 
death's  dragon-jaw  is  not  inviting  even  to  Englishmen 
receiving  the  word  that  duty  bids  them  advance,  and  they 
require  a  leader  of  the  way.  A  national  coxcombry  that 
pretends  to  an  independence  of  human  sensations,  and  makes 
a  motto  of  our  dandiacal  courage,  is  more  perilous  to  the 
armies  of  the  nation  than  that  of  a  few  heroes.  It  is  this 
coxcombry  which  has  too  often  caused  disdain  of  the  wise 
chief's  maxim  of  calculation  for  winners,  namely,  to  have 
always  the  odds  on  your  side,  and  which  has  bled,  shattered, 
and  occasionally  disgraced  us.  Young  Michell's  carrying 
powder -bags  to  the  assault,  and  when  ordered  to  retire, 
bearing  them  on  his  back,  and  helping  a  wounded  soldier  on 
the  way,  did  surely  well ;  nor  did  ]Mr.  Beauchamp  himself 
behave  so  badly  on  an  occasion  wdien  the  sailors  of  his  bat- 
tery caught  him  out  of  a  fire  of  shell  that  raised  jets  of  dust 
and  smoke  like  a  range  of  geysers  over  the  open,  and  hugged 
him  as  loving  women  do  at  a  meeting  or  a  parting.  He  was 
penitent  before  his  nncle,  admitting,  first,  that  the  men  were 
not  in  want  of  an  example  of  the  contempt  of  death,  and 
secondly,  that  he  doubted  whether  it  was  contempt  of  death 
on  his  part  so  much  as  pride — a  hatred  of  being  seen  run- 
ning. 

"  I   don't  like  the  fellow  to  be  dviiAving  it  so  fine,"  said 
Everard.     It  sounded  to  him  a  trifle  parsonical.     But  hia 

d2 


36  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

heart  was  won  bj  Nevil's  determination  to  wear  ont  the 
campaign  rather  than  be  invalided  or  entrusted  with  a  holi- 
day duty. 

"  I  see  with  shame  (admiration  of  therrh)  old  infantry 
captains  and  colonels  of  no  position  beyond  their  rank  in  the 
army,  sticking  to  their  post,"  said  Nevil,  "  and  a  lord  and  a 
lord  and  a  lord  slipping  off  as  though  the  stuff  of  the  man 
in  him  had  melted.  I  shall  go  through  with  it."  Everard 
approved  him. 

Colonel  Halkett  wrote  that  the  youth  was  a  skeleton. 
Still  Everard  encouraged  him  to  Tiersevere,  and  said  of 
him: 

"I  like  him  for  holding  to  his  work  after  the  strain's 
over.     That  tells  the  man." 

'  He  observed  at  his  table,  in  reply  to  commendations  of  his 
Inephew  : 

"Nevil's  leak  is  his  political  craze,  and  that  seems  to  be 
going :  I  hope  it  is.  You  can't  rear  a  man  on  politics. 
When  I  was  of  his  age  I  never  looked  at  the  newspapers, 
except  to  read  the  divorce  cases.  I  came  to  politics  with  a 
ripe  judgement.  He  shines  in  action,  and  he'll  find  that  out, 
and  leave  others  the  palavering." 

It  was  upon  the  close  of  the  war  that  Nevil  drove  his 
uncle  to  avow  a  downright  undisguised  indignation  with 
him.  He  caught  a  fever  in  the  French  camp,  where  he  was 
dispensing  vivers  and  pro  vends  out  of  English  hamjDers. 

"  Those  French  fellows  are  every  man  of  them  trained  up 
to  snapping-point,"  said  Everard.  "  You're  sure  to  have 
them  if  jovl  hold  out  long  against  them.  And  greedy  dogs 
too  :  they're  for  half  our  hampers,  and  all  the  glory.  And 
there's  jS'evil,  down  on  his  back  in  the  thick  of  them !  Will 
anybody  tell  me  why  the  devil  he  must  be  poking  into  the 
French  camp  ?  They  were  ready  enough  to  run  to  him  and 
beg  potatoes.  It's  all  for  humanity  he  does  it — mark  that. 
Never  was  a  word  fitter  for  a  quack's  mouth  than  '  humanity.' 
Two  syllables  more,  and  the  parsons  would  be  riding  it  to 
sawdust.  Humanity  !  Humanitomtity  !  It's  the  best  word 
of  the  two  for  half  the  things  done  in  the  name  of  it." 

A  tremendously  bracing  epistle,  excellent  for  an  access  of 
fever,  was  dispatched  to  humanity's  curate,  and  Everard  sat 
expecting  a  hot  rejoinder,  or  else  a  black-sealed  letter,  but 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  NEVIL  IN  ACTION.  37 

neitlier  one  nor  the  other  arrived.  Suddenly,  to  his  disgust, 
came  rumours  of  peace  between  the  might v  belligerents. 

The  silver  trumpets  of  peace  were  nowhere  hearkened  to 
with  satisfaction  by  the  bull-dogs,  though  triumph  rang 
sonorously  through  the  music,  for  they  had  been  severely 
mangled,  as  usual  at  the  outset,  and  they  had  at  last  got 
their  grip,  and  were  in  high  condition  for  fighting. 

The  most  expansive  panegyrists  of  our  deeds  did  not  dare 
affirm  of  the  most  famous  of  them  that  England  had 
embarked  her  costly  cavalry  to  offer  it  for  a  mark  of  artil- 
lery-balls on  three  sides  of  a  square:  and  the  belief  was 
universal  that  we  could  do  more  business-like  deeds  and  play 
the  great  game  of  blunders  with  an  ability  refined  by  expe- 
rience. Everard  Romfrey  was  one  of  those  who  thought 
themselves  justified  in  insisting  upon  the  continuation  of  the 
war,  in  contempt  of  our  allies.  His  favourite  saj'ing  that 
constitution  beats  the  world,  was  being  splendidly  mani- 
fested by  our  bearing.  He  was  very  uneasy  ;  he  would  not 
hear  of  peace ;  and  not  only  that,  the  imperial  gentleman 
soberly  committed  the  naivete  of  sending  word  to  ]S"evil  to 
let  him  know  immediately  the  opinion  of  the  camp  concern- 
ing it,  as  perchance  an  old  Roman  knight  may  have  written 
to  some  young  aquilifer  of  the  Praetorians. 

Allies,  however,  are  of  the  description  of  twins  joined  by 
a  membrane,  and  supposing  that  one  of  them  determines  to 
sit  down,  the  other  will  act  wisely  in  bending  his  knees  at 
once,  and  doing  the  same :  he  cannot  but  be  extremely 
uncomfortable  left  standing.  Besides,  there  was  the 
Ottoman  cleverly  poised  again ;  the  Muscovite  was  battered ; 
fresh  gilt  w^as  added  to  the  military  glory  of  the  Gaul. 
English  grumblers  might  well  be  asked  what  they  had 
fought  for,  if  they  were  not  contented. 

Colonel  Halkett  mentioned  a  report  that  Nevil  had 
received  a  slight  thigh- wound  of  small  importance.  At  aiiy 
rate,  something  was  the  matter  with  him,  and  it  was  natur- 
ally imagined  that  he  would  have  double  cause  to  write 
home ;  and  still  more  so  for  the  reason,  his  uncle  con- 
fessed, that  he  had  foreseen  the  folly  of  a  war  conducted  by 
milky  cotton-spinners  and  tlieir  adjuncts,  in  partnership 
with  a  throned  gambler,  who  had  won  his  stake,  and  now 
snapped  his  fingers  at  them.  Everard  expected,  he  had 
prepared  himself  for,  the  young  naval  politician's  crow,  and 


38  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

he  meant  to  admit  frankly  that  he  had  heen  wrong  in  wish- 
ing to  fight  anybody  without  having  first  crushed  the  cotton 
faction.     But  Nevil  continued  silent. 

"  Dead  in  hospital  or  a  Turk  hotel ! "  sighed  Everard ; 
"  and  no  more  to  the  scoundrels  over  there  than  a  body  to  be 
Bhovelled  infco  slack  lime." 

Rosamund  Culling  was  the  only  witness  of  his  remarkable 
betrayal  of  grief. 


CHAPTER  V. 

RENEE. 

At  last,  one  morning,  arrived  a  letter  from  a  French 
gentleman  signing  himself  Comte  Cresnes  de  C'roisnel,  in 
which  Everard  was  informed  that  his  nephew  had  accoin- 
panied  the  son  of  the  writer.  Captain  de  Croisnel,  on  boaid 
an  Austrian  boat  out  of  the  East,  and  was  lying  in  Venice 
nnder  a  return- attack  of  fever, — not,  the  count  stated 
pointedly,  in  the  hands  of  an  Italian  physician.  He  had 
brought  his  own  with  him  to  meet  his  son,  who  was  likewise 
disabled. 

Everard  was  assured  by  M.  de  Croisnel  that  every  atten- 
tion and  affectionate  care  M^ere  being  rendered  to  his  gallant 
and  adored  nephew — "  vrai  type  de  tout  ce  qu'il  y  a  de  noble 
et  de  chevaleresque  dans  la  vieille  Angleterre " — from  a 
family  bound  to  him  by  the  tenderest  obligations,  personal 
and  national ;  one  as  dear  to  every  member  of  it  as  the 
brother,  the  son,  they  welcomed  with  thankful  hearts  to  the 
Divine  interposition  restoring  him  to  them.  In  conclusio-;, 
the  count  proposed  something  like  the  embrace  of  a  fraternal 
friendship  should  Everard  think  fit  to  act  upon  the  spon- 
taneous sentiments  of  a  loving  relative,  and  join  them  in 
Venice  to  watch  over  his  nephew's  recovery.  Already 
M.  ISTevil  was  stronger.  The  gondola  was  a  medicine  in 
itself,  the  count  said. 

Everard  knitted  his  mouth  to  intensify  a  peculiar  subdued 
form  of  laughter  through  the  nose,  in  hopeless  ridicule  of  a 
Frenchman's  notions  of  an  Englishman's  occupations — pre 


REN^E.  39 

Bumed  across  Channel  to  allow  of  his  breaking  loose  from 
shooting  engagements  at  a  minute's  notice,  to  rush  off  to  a 
fetid  foreign  city  notorious  for  mud  and  mosquitoes,  and 
commence  capering  and  grimacing,  pouring  forth  a  jugful 
of  ready-made  extravagances,  with  nnonjils  !  mon  cher  neveu! 
Dieu !  and  similar  fiddlededee.  These  were  matters  for 
women  to  do,  if  they  chose  :  women  and  Frenchmen  were 
much  of  a  pattern.  Moreover,  he  knew  the  hotel  this  Comte 
de  Croisnel  was  staying  at.  He  gasped  at  the  name  of  it: 
he  had  rather  encounter  a  gi'isly  bear  than  a  mosquito  any 
night  of  his  life,  for  no  stretch  of  cunning  outwits  a  mosquito  ; 
and  enlarging  on  the  qualities  of  the  terrific  insect,  he  vowed 
it  was  damnation  without  trial  or  judgement. 

Eventually  Mrs.  Culling's  departure  was  permitted.  He 
argued,  "Why  go  ?  the  fellow's  comfortable,  getting  himseff 
together,  and  you  say  the  French  are  good  nurses."  But 
her  entreaties  to  go  were  vehement,  though  Venice  had  no 
happy  place  in  her  recollections,  and  he  withheld  his  objec- 
tions to  her  going.  For  him,  the  fields  forbade  it.  He  sent 
hearty  messages  to  Nevil,  and  that  was  enough,  considering 
that  the  young  dog  of  '  humanity  '  had  clearly  been  running 
out  of  his  way  to  catch  a  jaundice,  and  was  bereaving  his 
houses  of  the  matronly  government,  deprived  of  which  they 
were  all  of  them  likely  soon  to  be  at  sixes  and  sevens  with 
disorderly  lacqueys,  peccant  maids,  and  cooks  in  hysterics. 

Now  if  the  master  of  his  fortunes  had  come  to  Venice ! — 
Nevil  started  the  supposition  in  his  mind  often  after  hope 
had  sunk. — Everard  would  have  seen  a  young  sailor  and  a 
soldier  the  thinner  for  wear,  reclining  in  a  gondola  half  the 
day,  fanned  by  a  brunette  of  the  fine  lineaments  of  the  good 
blood  of  France.  She  chattered  snatches  of  Venetian  caught 
from  the  gondoliers,  she  was  like  a  delicate  cup  of  crystal 
brimming  with  the  beauty  of  the  place,  and  making  one  of 
them  drink  in  all  his  impressions  through  her.  Her  features 
had  the  soft  irregularities  which  run  to  rarities  of  beauty, 
as  the  ripple  rocks  the  light ;  mouth,  eyes,  brows,  nostrils, 
and  bloomy  cheeks  played  into  one  another  liquidly ;  thought 
flew,  tongue  followed,  and  the  flash  of  meaning  quivered 
over  them  like  night-lightning.  Or  oftener,  to  speak,  truth, 
tongue  flew,  thought  followed :  her  age  was  but  newl^ 
seventeen,  and  she  was  French. 

Her  name  was  Henee.     She  was  the  only  daughter  of  the 


40  BEAUCFAMP'S  CAREER. 

Comte  de  Croisnel.  Her  brofber  Roland  owed  hia  life  to 
Nevil,  this  Englisliinaii  proud  of  a  Frencli  name — Nevil 
BeaTicliamp.  If  there  was  any  warm  feeling  below  the 
unruffled  surface  of  the  girl's  deliberate  eyes  while  gazing 
on  him,  it  was  that  he  who  had  saved  her  brother  must  be 
nearly  brother  himself,  yet  was  not  quite,  yet  must  be  loved, 
yet  not  approached.  He  was  her  brother's  brother-in-arms, 
brother-in-heart,  not  hers,  yet  hers  through  her  brother. 
His  French  name  rescued  him  from  foreignness.  He  spoke 
her  language  with  a  piquant  accent,  unlike  the  pitiable 
English.  Unlike  them,  he  was  gracious,  and  could  be  soft 
and  quick.  The  battle-scarlet,  battle-black,  Roland's  tales 
of  him  threw  round  him  in  her  imagination,  made  his 
gentleness  a  surprise.  If,  then,  he  was  heis  through  her 
brother,  what  was  she  to  him  P  The  question  did  not  spring 
clearly  within  her,  though  she  was  alive  to  every  gradual 
change  of  manner  toward  the  convalescent  necessitated  by 
the  laws  overawing  her  sex. 

Venice  was  the  Fi-ench  girl's  dream.  She  was  realizing  it 
hungrily,  revelling  in  it,  anatomizing  it,  picking  it  to  pieces, 
reviewing  it,  comparing  her  work  with  the  original,  and  the 
original  with  her  fii-st  conception,  until  beautiful  sad  Venice 
threatened  to  be  no  more  her  dream,  and  in  dread  of  disen- 
chantment she  tried  to  take  impressions  humbly,  really 
tasked  herself  not  to  analyze,  not  to  dictate  from  a  French 
footing,  not  to  scorn.  Not  to  be  petulant  with  objects  dis- 
appointing her,  was  an  impossible  task.  She  could  not  con- 
sent to  a  compromise  with  the  people,  the  merchandize,  the 
odours  of  the  city.  Gliding  in  the  gondola  through  the 
narrow  canals  at  low  tide,  she  leaned  back  simulating  stupor, 
with  one  word — Venezia!  Her  brother  was  commanded  to 
smoke:  "  Fumez,  fumez,  Roland!"  As  soon  as  the  steel- 
crested  prow  had  pushed  into  her  Paradise  of  the  Canal 
Grande,  she  quietly  shrouded  her  hair  from  tobacco,  and 
called  upon  rapture  to  recompense  her  for  her  suiferings. 
The  black  gondola  was  unendurable  to  her.  She  had  accom- 
panied her  father  to  the  Accademia,  and  mused  on  the 
golden  Venetian  streets  of  Carpaccio :  she  must  have  an 
open  gondola  to  decorate  in  his  manner,  gail}^  splendidly, 
and  mock  at  her  efforts — a  warning  to  all  that  might  hope 
to  improve  the  prevailing  gloom  and  squalor  by  levying 
contributions  upon  the  Merceria !     Her  most  constant  and 


EEN^E.  41 

miration  was  for  the  Englisli  lord  who  used  once  to  ride  on 
the  Lido  sands  and  visit  the  Armenian  convent — a  lord  and 
a  poet. 

This  was  to  be  infinitely  more  than  a  naval  lieutenant. 
Bnt  Nevil  claimed  her  as  little  personally  as  he  allowed  her 
to  be  claimed  by  another.  The  graces  of  her  freaks  of  petu- 
lance and  airy  whims,  her  sprightly  jets  of  wilfulness, 
fleeting  frowns  of  contempt,  imperious  decisions,  were  all 
beautiful,  like  silver- shifting  waves,  in  this  lustrous  planet  of 
her  pure  freedom ;  and  if  you  will  seize  the  divine  concep- 
tion of  Artemis,  and  own  the  goddess  French,  you  will 
understand  his  feelings. 

But  though  he  admired  fervently,  and  danced  obediently 
to  her  tunes,  Nevil  could  not  hear  injustice  done  to  a  people 
or  historic  poetic  city  without  trying  hard  to  right  the  mind 
guilty  of  it.  A  newspaper  correspondent,  a  Mr.  John  Holies, 
lingering  on  his  road  home  from  the  army,  put  him  on  the 
track  of  an  Englishman's  books  touching  the  spirit  as  well 
as  the  stones  of  Venice,  and  Nevil  thanked  him  when  he  had 
turned  some  of  the  leaves. 

The  study  of  the  books  to  school  Renee  was  pursued,  like 
the  Bianchina's  sleep,  in  gondoletta,  and  was  not  unlike  it  at 
intervals.  A  translated  sentence  was  the  key  to  a  reverie. 
Renee  leaned  back,  meditating;  he  forward,  the  book  on  hih 
knee  :  Roland  left  them  to  themselves,  and  spied  for  the 
Bianchina  behind  the  window-bars.  The  count  was  in  the 
churches  or  the  Galleries.  Renee  thought  she  bepan  to 
comprehend  the  spirit  of  Venice,  and  cliided  her  rebellious- 
ness. 

"  But  our  Venice  was  the  Venice  of  the  decadence,  then  !" 
she  said,  complaining.  ISTevil  read  on,  distrustful  of  the 
perspicuity  of  his  own  ideas. 

"  Ah,  but,"  said  she,  "  when  these  Venetians  were  rough 
men,  chanting  like  our  Huguenots,  how  cold  it  must  have 
been  here!" 

She  hoped  she  was  not  very  wrong  in  preferring  the  times 
of  the  great  Venetian  painters  and  martial  doges  to  that 
period  of  faith  and  stone-cutting.  What  was  done  then 
might  be  beautiful,  but  the  life  was  monotonous  ;  she  insisted 
that  it  was  Huguenot ;  harsh,  nasal,  sombre,  insolent,  self- 
sufficient.  Her  eyes  lightened  for  the  flashing  colours  and 
pageantries,  and  the  tlireads  of  desperate  adventure  crossing 


42  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEEE. 

the  rii  to  this  and  that  palace-door  and  balcony,  like  faint 
blood-streaks  ;  the  times  of  Venice  in  full  flower.  She  rea- 
soned against  the  hard  eloquent  Englishman  of  the  books. 
"  But  we  are  known  by  our  fruits,  are  we  not  ?  and  the 
Venice  I  admire  was  surely  the  fruit  of  these  stonecutters 
chanting  hymns  of  faith  ;  it  could  not  but  be  :  and  if  it 
deserved,  as  he  says,  to  die  disgraced,  I  think  we  should  go 
back  to  them  and  ask  them  whether  their  minds  were  as 
pure  and  holy  as  he  supposes."  Her  French  wits  would  not 
be  subdued.  Xevil  pointed  to  the  palaces.  "  Pride,"  said 
she.  He  argued  that  the  original  Venetians  were  not 
responsible  for  their  offspring.  "  You  say  it  r"  she  cried, 
*'  you,  of  an  old  race  ?  Oh,  no  ;  you  do  not  feel  it !"  and  the 
trembling  fervour  of  her  voice  convinced  him  that  he  did 
not,  could  not. 

Renee  said  :  "  I  know  my  ancestors  are  bound  up  in  me, 
by  my  sentiments  to  them ;  and  so  do  you,  M.  Nevil.  We 
shame  them  if  we  fail  in  courage  and  honour.  Is  it  not  so  ? 
If  we  break  a  single  pledged  word  we  cast  shame  on  them. 
Why,  that  makes  us  what  we  are  ;  that  is  our  distinction : 
we  dare  not  be  weak  if  we  would.  And  therefore  when 
Venice  is  reproached  with  avarice  and  luxury,  I  choose  to 
say — what  do  we  hear  of  the  children  of  misers  ?  and  I  say 
T  am  certain  that  those  old  cold  Huguenot  stonecutters  were 
proud  and  grasping.  I  am  sure  they  were,  and  they  shall 
share  the  blame." 

i^evil  plunged  into  his  volume. 

He  called  on  Roland  for  an  o])inion. 

"Friend,"  said  Roland,  "opinions  may  differ:  mine  is, 
considering  the  defences  of  the  windows,  that  the  only  way 
into  these  houses  or  out  of  them  bodily  was  the  doorway." 

Roland  complimented  his  sister  and  friend  on  the  prose- 
cution of  their  studies  :  he  could  not  understand  a  word  of 
the  subject,  and  yawning,  he  begged  permission  to  be  allowed 
to  land  and  join  the  gondola  at  a  distant  quarter.  The  gallant 
officer  was  in  haste  to  go. 

Renee  stared  at  her  brother.  He  saw  nothing  ;  he  said  a 
word  to  the  gondoliers,  and  quitted  the  boat.  Mars  was  in 
pursuit.     She  resigned  herself,  and  ceased  then  to  be  a  girl. 


iOYE  IN  VENICB.  43 

CHAPTER  VI. 

LOVE     IN     VENICE. 

The  air  flashed  like  lieaven  descending  for  !N"evil  alone 
with  Renee.  They  had  never  been  alone  before.  Such  hap- 
piness belonged  to  the  avenue  of  wishes  leading  to  golden 
mists  beyond  imagination,  and  seemed,  coming  on  him  sud- 
denly, miraculous.  He  leaned  toTvard  her  like  one  who  has 
broken  a  current  of  speech,  and  waits  to  resume  it.  She 
was  all  unsuspecting  indolence,  with  gravely  shadowed  eyes. 

"I  throw  the  book  down,"  he  said. 

She  objected.     "No;  continue :  I  like  it." 

Both  of  them  divined  that  the  book  was  there  to  do  duty 
for  Roland. 

He  closed  it,  keeping  a  finger  among  the  leaves  ;  a  kind  of 
anchorage  in  case  of  indiscretion. 

"  Permit  me  to  tell  you,  M.  Nevil,  you  are  inclined  taplay 
truant  to-day." 

"lam." 

"  Now  is  the  very  time  to  read ;  for  my  poor  Roland  is  at 
sea  when  we  discuss  our  questions,  and  the  book  has  driven 
him  away." 

"  But  we  have  plenty  of  time  to  read.  We  miss  the  scenes." 

"  The  scenes  are  green  shutters,  wet  steps,  barcaroli,  brown 
women,  striped  posts,  a  scarlet  night-cap,  a  sick  fig-tree,  an 
old  shawl,  faded  spots  of  colour,  peeling  walls.  They  might 
be  figured  by  a  trodden  melon.  They  all  resemble  one  another, 
and  so  do  the  days  here." 

"  That's  the  charm.  I  wish  I  could  look  on  yon  and  think 
the  same.     You,  as  you  are,  for  ever." 

"  Would  you  not  let  me  live  my  life  ?" 

"  I  would  not  have  you  alter." 

"  Please  to  be  pathetic  on  that  subject  after  I  am  wrinkled, 
monsieur." 

"  You  want  commanding,  mademoiselle." 

Renee  nestled  her  chin,  and  gazed  forward  through  her 


Venice  is  like  a  melancholy  face  of   a   former  beauty 
who  has  ceased  to  rouge,  or  wipe  a\  ay  traces  of  her  old 


44 

arts,"  she  said,  straining  for  common  talk,  and  showing  the 
strain. 

"Wait;  now  we  are  rounding,"  said  he;  "now  you  have 
three  of  what  you  call  your  theatre-bridges  in  sight.  The 
people  mount  and  drop,  mount  and  drop  ;  I  see  them  laugh. 
They  are  full  of  fun  and  good-temper.  Look  on  living 
Venice." 

'*  Provided  that  my  papa  is  not  crossing  when  we  go  under." 

*'  Would  he  not  trust  you  to  me  ?'* 

"Yes." 

"He  would?     And  you  P" 

"  I  do  believe  they  are  improvizing  an  operetta  on  the 
second  bridge." 

"  You  trust  yourself  willingly  ?" 

"  As  to  my  second  brother.  You  hear  them  ?  How  delight- 
fully quick  and  spontaneous  they  are  !  Ah,  silly  creatures  ! 
they  have  stopped.  They  might  have  held  it  on  for  us  while 
we  were  passing." 

"  Where  would  the  naturalness  have  been  then  ?" 

"  Perhaps,  M.  Nevil,  I  do  want  commanding.  I  am  wilful. 
Half  my  days  will  be  spent  in  fits  of  remorse,  I  begin  to 
think." 

"  Come  to  me  to  be  forgiven." 

"  Sluill  I  ?     I  should  be  forgiven  too  readily." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that." 

"  Can  you  be  harsh  ?  No,  not  even  with  enemies.  Least 
of  all  with  ....  with  us." 

Oh  for  the  black  gondola ! — ^the  little  gliding  dusky  chamber 
for  two ;  instead  of  this  open,  flaunting,  gold  and  crimson 
cotton- woriv,  which  exacted  discretion  on  his  part  and  that 
of  the  mannerly  gondoliers,  and  exposed  him  to  window, 
balcony,  bridge,  and  borderway. 

They  slipped  on  beneath  a  red  balcony  where  a  girl  leaned 
on  her  folded  arms,  and  eyed  them  coming  and  going  by 
with  Egyptian  gra\^ity. 

"  How  strange  a  power  of  looking  these  people  have,"  said 
Renee,  whose  vivacity  was  fascinated  to  a  steady  sparkle  by 
the  girl.     "  Tell  me,  is  she  glancing  round  at  us  ?" 

Nevil  turned  and  reported  that  she  was -not.  She  had 
exhausted  them  while  they  were  in  transit;  she  had  no 
minor  curiosity. 

"  Let  us  fancy  she  is  looking  for  hfcr  lover,"  he  said. 


LOVE  IN  VENICE.  45 

Ren^e  added:  **Let  us  hope  she  will  not  escape  being 
seen." 

"  I  give  her  my  benediction,"  said  Nevil. 

"  And  I,"  said  Renee ;  "and  adien  to  her,  if  you  please. 
Look  for  Roland." 

"  You  remind  me;  I  have  but  a  few  instants." 

"  M.  Nevil,  you  are  a  preux  of  the  times  of  my  brother's 
patronymic.  And  therfi  is  my  Roland  awaiting  us.  Is  he 
not  handsome  ?" 

"  How  glad  you  are  to  have  him  to  relieve  guard  !" 

Renee  bent  on  Nevil  one  of  her  singular  looks  of  raillery. 
She  had  hitherto  been  fencing  at  a  serious  disadvantage. 

"  Not  so  very  glad,"  she  said,  "  if  that  deprived  me  of  the 
presence  of  his  friend." 

Roland  was  her  tower.  But  Roland  was  not  yet  on  board. 
She  had  peeped  from  her  citadel  too  rashly.  Nevil  liad 
time  to  spring  the  flood  of  crimson  in  her  cheeks,  bright  aa 
the  awning  she  reclined  under. 

*'  Would  you  have  me  with  you  always  ?" 

"  Assuredly,"  said  she,  feeling  the  hawk  in  him,  and 
trying  to  baffle  him  by  fluttering. 

"  Always  ?  for  ever  ?  and — listen — give  me  a  title  ?*' 

Renee  sang  out  to  Roland  like  a  bird  in  distress,  and  had 
some  trouble  not  to  appear  too  providentially  rescued. 
Roland  on  board,  she  resumed  the  attack. 

"  M.  Nevil  vows  he  is  a  better  brother  to  me  than  you,  who 
dart  away  on  an  impulse  and  leave  us  threading  all  Venice 
till  we  do  not  know  where  we  are,  naughty  brother  !" 

"  My  little  sister,  the  spot  where  you  are,"  rejoined 
Roland,  "  is  precisely  the  spot  where  I  left  you,  and  I  defy 
you  to  say  you  have  gone  on  without  me.  This  is  the 
identical  riva  I  stepped  out  on  to  buy  you  a  packet  of 
Venetian  ballads." 

They  recognized  the  spot,  and  for  a  confirmation  of  the 
surprising  statement,  Roland  unrolled  several  sheets  of 
printed  blotting-paper,  and  rapidly  read  part  of  a  Canzonetta 
concerning  Una  Giovine  who  reproved  her  lover  for  hia 
extreme  addiction  to  wine : 

'  Ma  sd,  ma  sd, 
Cotanto  bevd. 
Mi  no,  mi  nd, 
No  ve  sposerdi,' 


46  BHAUCHAMP  S  CAREER. 

"  Tliis  astounding  vagabond  preferred  l^Gstraiii  to  Hs 
heart's  mistress.  I  tasted  some  of  their  Nostrani  to  see  if  it 
could  be  possible  for  a  Frenchman  to  exonerate  him." 

Roland's  wr}^  face  at  the  mention  of  Nostrani  brought  out 
the  chief  gondolier,  who  delivered  himself : — 

"  Siguore,  there  be  hereditary  qualifications.  One  must 
be  born  Italian  to  appreciate  the  merits  of  Nostrani  !" 

Roland  laughed.  He  had  covered  his  delinquency  in 
leaving  his  sister,  and  was  full  of  an  adventure  to  relate  to 
Nevil,  a  stoij  promising  well  for  him. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

AN   AWAKENING    FOB   BOTH. 


Ren^e  was  downcast.  Had  she  not  coquetted  P  The  dear 
young  Englishman  had  reduced  her  to  defend  herself,  the 
which  fair  ladies,  like  besieged  garrisons,  cannot  always  do 
successfully  without  an  attack  at  times,  which,  when  the 
pursuer  is  ardent,  is  followed  by  a  retreat,  which  is  a  pi-ovo- 
cation ;  and  these  things  are  coquettry.  Her  still  fresh 
convent-conscience  accused  her  of  it  pitilessly.  She  could 
not  forgive  her  brother,  and  yet  she  dared  not  reproach  him, 
for  that  would  have  inculpated  Nevil.  She  stepped  on  to 
the  Piazzetta  thoughtfully.  Her  father  was  at  Florian's, 
perusing  letters  from  France.  "  We  are  to  have  the  marquis 
here  in  a  week,  my  child,"  he  said.  Renee  nodded.  In- 
voluntarily she  looked  at  ISTevil.  He  caught  the  look,  with 
a  lover's  quick  sense  of  misfortune  in  it. 

She  heard  her  brother  reply  to  him :  "  Who  ?  the  Marquis 
de  Rouaillout  ?  It  is  a  jolly  gaillard  of  fifty  who  spoils  no 
fun." 

"  You  mistake  his  age,  Roland,"  she  said. 

"  Forty-nine,  then,  my  sister." 

"  He  is  not  that." 

"He  looks  it." 

**  You  have  been  absent." 

"  Probably,  my  aT*ithTni»tir9l  Pi«?fer.  he  has  employecl  the 
interval  to  grow  younger.     Thej   say  it  is  the  way  with 


AN  AWAKENING  FOR  BOTH.  47 

green  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age.  Thej  advance  and  tliey 
retire.  They  perform  the  first  steps  of  a  quadrille  ceremo- 
niously, and  we  admire  them." 

"  What's  that  y"  exclaimed  the  Comte  de  Croisnel.  "  You 
talk  nonsense,  Roland.  M.  le  marquis  is  hardly  past  forty. 
He  is  in  his  prime." 

"  Without  question,  men  pere.  For  me,  I  was  merely 
offering  proof  that  he  can  preserve  his  prime  unliniitedly." 

"  He  is  not  a  subject  tor  mockery,  Roland." 

*'  Quite  the  contrary  ; — ^for  reverence  !" 

"  Another  than  you,  my  boy,  and  he  would  march  you 
out." 

"  I  am  to  imagine,  then,  that  his  hand  continues  firm  ?" 

"  Imagine  to  the  extent  of  your  capacity ;  but  remember 
that  respect  is  always  owing  to  your  own  family,  and 
deliberate  before  you  draw  on  yourself  such  a  chastisement 
as  mercy  from  an  accepted  member  of  it." 

Roland  bowed  and  drummed  on  his  knee. 

The  conversation  had  >ieen  originated  by  Renee  for  the 
enlightenment  of  Nevil  and  as  a  future  protection  to  herself. 
Now  that  it  had  disclosed  its  burden  she  could  look  at  him 
no  more,  and  when  her  father  addressed  her  significantly : 
"  Marquise,  you  did  me  the  honour  to  consent  to  accompany 
me  to  the  Church  of  the  Frari  this  afternoon  ?"  she  felt  her 
self-accusation  of  coquettry  biting  under  her  bosom  like  a 
thing  alive. 

Roland  explained  the  situation  to  Nevil, 

"  It  is  the  mania  with  us,  my  dear  Nevil,  to  marry  our 
girls  young  to  established  men.  Your  established  man 
carries  usually  all  the  signs,  visible  to  the  multitude  or  not, 
of  the  stages  leading  to  that  eminence.  We  cannot,  I 
believe,  unless  we  have  the  good  fortune  to  boast  the  pater- 
nity of  Hercules,  disconnect  ourselves  from  the  steps  we 
have  mounted;  not  even,  the  priests  inform  us,  if  we  are 
ascending  to  heaven ;  we  carry  them  beyond  the  grave. 
However,  it  seems  that  our  excellent  marquis  contrives  to 
keep  them  concealed,  and  he  is  ready  to  face  marriage — the 
Cli-andest  Inquisitor,  next  to  Death.  Two  furious  match- 
makers— our  country,  beautiful  France,  abounds  in  them — 
met  one  day  ;  they  were  a  comtesse  and  a  baronne,  and  they 
settled  the  alliance.  The  bell  was  rung,  and  Renee  came 
out  of  school.     There  is  this  to  be  said  :  she  has  no  mother ; 


48  BE AUCTT amp's  CAREER, 

the  sooner  a  g^l  withont  a  mother  has  a  hnsband  the  better. 
That  we  are  all  agreed  upon.  I  have  no  personal  objection 
to  the  marquis  ;  he  has  never  been  in  any  great  scandals. 
He  is  Norman,  and  has  estates  in  Normandy,  Dauphiny, 
Touraine;  he  is  hospitable,  luxurious.  Renee  will  have  a 
fine  hotel  in  Paris.  But  I  am  eccentric :  I  have  read  in  our 
old  Fabliaux  of  December  and  May.  Say  the  marquis  is 
November,  say  October;  he  is  still  some  distance  removed 
from  the  plump  Spring  month.  And  we  in  our  family  have 
wits  and  passions.  In  fine,  a  bud  of  a  rose  in  an  old  gentle- 
man's button-hole !  it  is  a  challenge  to  the  whole  world  of 
youth ;  and  if  the  bud  should  leap  ?  Enough  of  this  matter, 
fi^iend  Nevil ;  but  sometimes  a  friend  must  allow  himself  to 
be  bothered.  I  have  perfect  confidence  in  my  sister,  you 
see ;  I  simply  protest  against  her  being  exposed  to  .  .  . 
You  know  men.  I  protest,  that  is,  in  the  privacy  of  my 
cigar-case,  for  I  have  no  chance  elsewhere.  The  affair  is  on 
wheels.  The  very  respectable  matchmakers  have  kindled 
the  mnrquis  on  the  one  hand,  and  my  father  on  the  other, 
and  Renee  passes  obediently  from  the  latter  to  the  former. 
In  India  they  sacrifice  the  widows,  in  France  the  virgins." 

Roland  proceeded  to  relate  his  adventure.  Nevil's  inat- 
tention piqued  him  to  salt  and  salt  it  wonderfully,  until  the 
old  story  of  He  and  She  had  an  exciting  savoui*  in  its  intro- 
ductory chapter ;  but  his  friend  waa  flying  through  the 
circles  of  the  Inferno,  and  the  babble  of  an  ephemeral  upper 
world  simply  affected  him  by  its  contrast  with  the  over- 
powering horrors,  repugnances,  despairs,  pities,  rushing  at 
him,  surcharging  his  senses.  Those  that  live  much  by  the 
heart  in  their  youth  have  sharp  foretastes  of  the  issues 
imaged  for  the  soul.  St.  Mark's  was  in  a  minute  struck 
black  for  him.  He  neither  felt  the  sunlight  nor  understood 
why  column  and  campanile  rose,  nor  why  the  islancls  basked, 
and  boats  and  people  moved.  All  were  as  remote  little  bits 
of  mechanism. 

Nevil  escaped,  and  walked  in  the  direction  of  the  Frari 
down  calle  and  campiello.  Only  to  see  her — to  compare 
her  with  the  Renee  of  the  past  hour !  But  that  Renee  had 
been  all  the  while  a  feast  of  delusion ;  she  could  never  be 
resuscitated  in  the  shape  he  had  known,  not  even  clearly 
visioned.  Not  a  day  of  her,  not  an  hour,  not  a  single  look 
had  been  his  own.     She  had  been  sold  when  he  first  beheld 


AN  AWAKENING  FOR  BOTH.  49 

her,  and  sTiould,  he  muttered  austerely,  have  been  ticketed 
the  property  of  a  middle-aged  man,  a  worn-out  French 
marquis,  whom  she  had  agreed  to  marry,  unwooed,  without 
love — the  creature  of  a  transaction.  But  she  was  innocent, 
^V^she  was  unaware  of  the  sin  residing  in  a  loveless  marriage ; 
>^d  this  restored  her  to  him  somewhat  as  a  drowned  body 
isg^ven  back  to  mourners. 

After  aimless  walking  he  found  himself  on  the  Zattere, 
where  the  lonely  Giudecca  lies  in  front,  covering  mud  and 
marsh  and  lagune-flames  of  later  afternoon,  and  you  have 
sight  of  the  high  mainland  hills  which  seem  to  fling  forth 
one  over  other  to  a  golden  sea-cape. 

3*Iidway  on  this  unadorned  Zattere,  with  its  young  trees 
and  spots  of  shade,  he  was  met  by  Renee  and  her  father. 
Their  gondola  was  below,  close  to  the  riva,  and  the  count 
said,  "  She  is  tired  of  standing  gazing  at  pictures.  There 
is  a  Veronese  in  one  of  the  churches  of  the  Giudecca  oppo- 
site. Will  you,  M.  Nevil,  act  as  parade-escort  to  her  here 
for  half  an  hour,  while  I  go  over  ?  Renee  complains  that 
she  loses  the  vulgar  art  of  walking  in  her  complaisant 
attention  to  the  fine  Arts.     T  weary  my  poor  child." 

Renee  protested  in  a  rapid  chatter. 

"Must  I  avow  it?"  said  the  count;  "she  damps  my 
enthusiasm  a  little." 

Nevil  mutely  accepted  the  office. 

Twice  that  day  was  she  surrendered  to  him  :  once  in  his 
ignorance,  when  time  appeared  an  expanse  of  many  sunny 
fields.  On  this  occasion  it  puffed  steam  ;  yet,  after  seeing 
the  count  embark,  he  commenced  the  parade  in  silence. 

"  This  is  a  nice  walk,"  said  Renee  ;  "  we  have  not  the  steps 
of  the  Riva  dei  Schi^voni.  It  is  rather  melancholy  though. 
How  did  you  discover  it  ?  I  persuaded  my  papa  to  send  the 
gondola  round,  and  walk  till  we  came  to  the  water.  Tell 
me  about  the  Giudecca." 

"  The  Giudecca  was  a  place  kept  apart  for  the  Jews,  I 
believe.  You  have  seen  their  burial-ground  on  the  Lido. 
Those  are,  I  think,  the  Euganean  hills.  You  are  fond  of 
Petrarch." 

"  M.  N"evil,  omitting  the  allusion  to  the  poet,  you  have, 
permit  me  to  remark,  the  brevity  without  the  precision  of 
an  accredited  guide  to  notabilities." 

"  I  tell  yon  what  I  know,"  said  Nevil,  brooding  on  the 

£ 


50  BEAUCBAMP'S  CAREER. 

finished  tone  and  womanly  aplomb  of  her  language.  It 
made  hini  forget  that  she  was  a  girl  entrusted  to  his 
guardianship.     His  heart  came  out. 

"  Renee,  if  you  loved  him,  I,  on  my  honour,  would  not 
utter  a  word  for  myself.  Your  heart's  inclinations  are 
sacred  for  me.  I  would  stand  by,  and  be  your  friend  and 
his.     If  he  were  young,  that  I  might  see  a  chance  of  it !", 

She  murmured,  "  You  should  not  have  listened  to 
Roland." 

"  Roland  should  have  warned  me.  How  could  I  be  near 
you  and  not  ...  But  I  am  nothing.  Forget  me ;  do  not 
think  I  speak  interestedly,  except  to  save  the  dearest  I  have 
ever  known  from  certain  wretchedness.  To  yield  yourself 
hand  and  foot  for  life !  I  warn  you  that  it  must  end 
miserably.  Your  countrywomen  ,  .  .  You  have  the  habit 
in  France ;  but  like  what  are  you  treated  ?  You  !  none  like 
you  in  the  whole  world  !  You  consent  to  be  extinguished. 
And  I  have  to  look  on !     Listen  to  me  now." 

Renee  glanced  at  the  gondola  conveying  her  father.  And 
he  has  not  yet  landed  !  she  thought,  and  said,  "  Do  you  pre- 
tend to  judge  of  my  welfare  better  than  my  papa  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  in  this.  He  follows  a  fashion.  You  submit  to  it. 
His  anxiety  is  to  ])rovide  for  you.  But  I  know  the  system 
is  cursed  by  nature,  and  that  means  by  heaven." 

"  Because  it  is  not  English  ?" 

"  O  Renee,  my  beloved  for  ever !  Well,  then,  tell  me,  tell 
me  you  can  say  with  pride  and  happiness  that  the  Marquis 
de  Rouaillout  is  to  be  your — there's  the  word — husband !" 

Renee  looked  across  the  water. 

"  Friend,  if  my  father  knew  you  were  asking  me !" 

"  I  will  speak  to  him."  ^ 

"  Useless." 

"  He  is  generous,  he  loves  you." 

"  He  cannot  break  an  engagement  binding  his  honour.** 

"  Would  you,  Renee,  would  you — it  must  be  said — consent 
to  have  it  known  to  him — I  beg  for  more  than  life — that  you 
are  not  averse  .  .  .  that  you  support  me  ?" 

His  failing  breath  softened  the  bluntness. 

She  replied,  "  I  would  not  have  him  ever  break  an  engage- 
ment binding  his  honour." 

"  You  stretch  the  point  of  honour." 

"  It  is  our  way.     Dear  friend,  we  are  French.     And  I  pre- 


AN  ATVAKENING  FOTJ  BOTH.  51 

snme  to  tliinl?:  that  onr  French  system  is  not  always  wrong, 
for  if  my  father  had  not  broken  it  by  treating  you.  as  one  of 
ns  and  leaving  me  with  you,  should  I  have  heard  .  .  .  ?" 

"  I  have  displeased  you." 

"  Do  not  suppose  that.  But,  I  mean,  a  mother  would  not 
have  left  me." 

"  You  wished  to  avoid  it." 

"  Do  not  blame  me.  I  had  some  instinct  j  yoa  were  very 
pale." 

"  You  knew  I  loved  you.** 

"  No." 

"  Yes  ;  for  this  morning ** 

"  This  morning  it  seemed  to  me,  and  I  regretted  my 
fancy,  that  you  were  inclined  to  trifle,  as,  they  say,  young 
men  do." 

"WithRenee?" 

"With  your  friend  Renee.  And  those  are  the  hills  of 
Petrarch's  tomb  ?     They  are  mountains." 

They  were  purple  beneath  a  large  brooding  cloud  that 
hung  against  the  sun,  waiting  for  him  to  enfold  him,  and 
Nevil  thought  that  a  tomb  there  would  be  a  welcome  end,  if 
he  might  lift  Renee  in  one  wild  flight  over  the  chasm  gaping 
for  her.  He  had  no  language  for  thoughts  of  such  a  kind, 
only  tumultuous  feeling. 

She  was  immoveable,  in  perfect  armour. 

He  said  despairingly,  *'  Can  you  have  realized  what  you 
are  consenting  to  ?  " 

She  answered,  "  It  is  my  duty." 

"  Your  duty !  it's  like  taking  up  a  dice-box,  and  flinging 
once,  to  certain  ruin  !  " 

"  I  must  oppose  my  father  to  you,  friend.  Do  you  not 
understand  duty  to  parents  ?  They  say  the  English  are  full 
of  the  idea  of  duty." 

"  Duty  to  country,  duty  to  oaths  and  obligations ;  but 
with  us  the  heart  is  free  to  choose." 

"  Free  to  choose,  and  when  it  is  most  ignorant?** 

*'  The  heart  ?  ask  it.     Nothing  is  surer." 

"  That  is  not  what  we  are  taught.  We  are  taughfe  that 
the  heart  deceives  itself.  The  heart  throws  your  dice-box  ; 
not  prudent  parents." 

She   talked  like   a  woman,   to  plead   the   cause  of  her 

£2 


52  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

obedience  as  a  girl,  and  now  silenced  in  the  same  manner 
that  she  had  previously  excited  him. 

"  Then  you  are  lost  to  me,"  he  said. 

They  saw  the  gondola  returning. 

"  How  swiftly  it  comes  home  ;  it  loitered  when  it  went," 
said  Renee.  "  There  sits  my  father,  brimming  with  his 
picture;  he  has  seen  one  more  !  We  will  congratulate  him. 
This  little  boulevard  is  not  much  to  speak  of.  The  hill.-  are 
lovely.  Friend,"  she  dropped  her  voice  on  the  gondola's 
approach,  "  we  have  conversed  on  common  subjects." 

Nevil  had  her  hand  in  his,  to  place  her  in  the  gondola. 

She  seemed  thankful  that  he  should  prefer  to  go  round  on 
foot.  At  least,  she  did  not  join  in  her  father's  invitation  to 
him.  She  leaned  back,  nestling  her  chin  and  half  closing 
her  eyes,  suffering  herself  to  be  divided  from  him,  borne 
away  by  forces  she  acquiesced  in. 

Roland  was  not  visible  till  near  midnight  on  the  Pia/za. 
The  promenaders,  chiefly  military  of  the  garrison,  were  few 
at  that  ]5eriod  of  social  protestation,  and  he  could  declare  his 
disappointment  aloud,  ringingly,  as  he  strolled  up  to  Nevil, 
looking  as  if  the  cigar  in  his  mouth  and  the  fists  entrenched 
in  his  wide  trowsers-pockets  were  mortally  at  feud.  His 
adventure  had  not  pursued  its  course  luminously.  He  had 
expected  romance,  and  had  met  merchandize,  and  his  vanity 
was  offended.  To  pacify  him,  Nevil  related  how  he  had 
heard  that  since  the  Venetian  rising  of  '49,  Venetian  ladies 
had  issued  from  the  ordeal  of  fire  and  famine  of  another 
pattern  than  the  famous  old  Benzon  one,  in  which  they 
touched  earthiest  earth.  He  praised  Republicanism  for 
that.  The  spirit  of  the  new  and  short-lived  Republic 
wrought  that  change  in  Venice. 

"  Oh,  if  they're  republican  as  well  as  utterly  decayed," 
said  Roland,  "  I  give  them  up  ;   let  them  die  virtuous." 

Nevil  told  Roland  that  he  had  spoken  to  Renee.  He  won 
sympathy,  but  Roland  could  not  give  him  encouragement. 
They  crossed  and  recrossed  the  shadow  of  the  great  cam- 
panile, on  the  warm-white  stones  of  the  square,  Nevil 
admitting  the  weight  of  whatsoever  Roland  pointed  to  him 
infavour  of  the  arrangement  according  to  French  notions, 
and  indeed,  of  aristocratic  notions  everywhere,  saving  that 
it  was  imperative  for  Renee  to  be  disposed  of  in  mai-riage 
early.     Why  rob  her  of  her  young  springtime  ! 


AN  AWAKENING  FOE  BOTH.  53 

**  French  girls,"  replied  Roland,  confused  by  the  nature  of 
the  explication  in  his  head — "  well,  they're  not  English ; 
they  want  a  hand  to  shape  them,  otherwise  they  grow  all 
awry.  My  father  will  not  have  one  of  her  aunts  to  live  with 
him,  so  there  she  is.  But,  my  dear  Nevil,  I  owe  my  life  to 
you,  and  I  was  no  party  to  this  affair.  I  Avould  do  anything 
to  help  you.     What  says  Renee  ?  " 

"  She  obeys." 

"  Exactly.  You  see !  Our  girls  are  chess-pieces  until 
they're  married.  Then  they  have  life  and  character  :  some- 
times too  much." 

"  She  is  not  like  them,  Roland  ;  she  is  like  none.  When 
I  spoke  to  her  first,  she  affected  no  astonishment ;  never 
was  there  a  creature  so  nobly  sincere.  She's  a  girl  in  heart, 
not  in  mind.     Think  of  her  sacrificed  to  this  man  thrice  her 


age 


I" 


"  She  differs  from  other  girls  only  on  the  surface,  Nevil. 
As  for  the  man,  I  wish  she  were  going  to  marry  a  younger. 
I  wish,  yes,  my  friend,"  Roland  squeezed  Nevil's  hand,  "  T 
wish  !  I'm  afraid  it's  hopeless.  She  did  not  tell  you  to 
hope  ?" 

"  N'ot  by  one  single  sign,"  said  Nevil. 

"  You  see,  my  friend  !" 

"  For  that  reason,"  Nevil  rejoined,  with  the  calm  fana- 
ticism of  the  passion  of  love,  "  I  hope  all  the  more  .... 
because  I  will  not  believe  that  she,  so  pure  and  good,  can  be 
sacrificed.  Put  me  aside — I  am  nothing.  I  hope  to  save 
her  from  that." 

"  We  have  now,"  said  Roland,  "  struck  the  current  of 
duplicity.     You  are  really  in  love,  my  poor  fellow." 

Lover  and  friend  came  to  no  conclusion,  except  that  so 
lovely  a  night  was  not  given  for  slumber.  A  small  round 
brilliant  moon  hung  almost  globed  in  the  depths  of  heaven, 
and  the  image  of  it  fell  deep  between  San  Griorgio  and  the 
Dogana. 

Renee  had  the  scene  from  her  window,  like  a  dream  given 
out  of  sleep.  She  lay  with  both  arms  thrown  up  beneath 
her  head  on  the  pillow,  her  eyelids  wide  open,  and  her 
visage  set  and  stem.  Her  bosom  rose  and  sank  regularly 
but  heavily.  The  fluctuations  of  a  night  stormy  for  her, 
hitherto  unknown,  had  sunk  her  to  this  trance,  in  which 
she  lay  like  a  creature  flung  on  shore  by  tha-wa^vep.     She 

OF   THK  '  r 

UNIVERSITY 


54 

heard  her  brother's  voice  and  Nevil's,  (and  the  pacing  of 
their  feet.  She  saw  the  long  shaft  of  moonlight  broken  to 
zigzags  of  mellow  lightning,  and  wavering  back  to  steadi- 
ness ;  dark  S;  n  Giorgio,  and  the  sheen  of  the  Dogana's 
front.  But  the  visible  beauty  belonged  to  a  night  tliiit  had 
shivered  repose,  humiliated  and  wounded  her,  destroyed  her 
confident  happy  half-infancy  of  heart,  and  she  had  flown 
for  a  refuge  to  hard  feelings.  Her  predominant  sentiment 
was  anger ;  an  anger  that  touched  all  and  envelo]^ed  none, 
for  it  was  quite  fictitious,  though  she  felt  it,  and  suffered 
from  it.  She  turned  it  on  Nevil  as  against  an  enemy,  and 
became  the  victim  in  his  place.  Tears  for  him  filled  in  her 
eyes,  and  ran  over  ;  she  disdained  to  notice  them,  and 
blinked  offendedly  to  have  her  sight  clear  of  the  weakness ; 
but  these  interceding  tears  would  flow  ;  it  was  dangerous  to 
blame  him  harshly.  She  let  them  roll  down,  figuring  to 
herself  with  quiet  simplicity  of  mind  tliat  her  spirit  was 
independent  of  them  as  long  as  she  resti-ained  her  hands 
from  being  accomplices  by  brushing  them  away,  as  weeping 
girls  do  that  cry  for  comfort.  Nevil  had  saved  her  brother's 
life,  and  had  succoured  her  countrymen;  he  loved  her,  and 
was  a  hero.  He  should  not  have  said  he  loved  her ;  that 
was  wrong;  and  it  was  shameful  that  he  should  have  urqcd 
her  to  disobey  her  father.  But  this  hero's  love  of  her  might 
plead  excuses  she  did  not  know  of ;  and  if  he  was  to  be 
excused,  he,  unhappy  that  he  was,  had  a  claim  on  her  for 
more  than  tears.  She  wept  resentfully.  Forces  above  her 
own  swayed  and  hurried  her  like  a  lifeless  body  dragged  by 
flying  wheels :  they  could  not  unnerve  her  will,  or  rather, 
what  it  really  was,  her  sense  of  submission  to  a  destiny. 
Looked  at  from  the  height  of  the  palm- waving  cherubs  over 
the  fallen  martyr  in  the  picture,  she  seemed  as  nerveless  as 
a  dreamy  girl.  The  raised  arms  and  bent  elbows  Avere  an 
illusion  of  indifference.  Her  shape  was  rigid  from  hands  to 
feet,  as  if  to  keep  in  a  knot  the  resolution  of  her  mind  ;  for 
the  second  and  in  that  young  season  the  stronger  nature 
gia^ted  by  her  education  fixed  her  to  the  religious  duty  of 
obeying  and  pleasing  her  father,  in  contempt,  almost  in 
abhorrence,  of  personal  inclinations  tending  to  thwart  him 
and  imperil  his  pledged  word.  She  knew  she  had  inclina- 
tions to  be  tender.  Her  hands  released,  how  promptly 
might  she  not  have  been  confiding  her  innumerable  per- 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  ADEIATIO.  55 

plexities  of  sentiment  and  emotion  to  paper,  nndermining" 
self-pfovernance  ;  self-respect,  pei"liaps  !  Further  than  that, 
she  did  not  understand  the  feelings  she  struggled  with  ; 
nor  had  she  any  impulse  to  gaze  on  him,  the  cause  of  her 
tiouble,  who  walked  beside  her  brother  below,  talking 
betweenwliiles  in  the  night's  grave  undertones.  Her 
trouble  was  too  overmastering;  it  had  seized  her  too 
mysteriously,  coming  on  her  solitariness  without  warniug 
in  the  first  watch  of  the  night,  like  a  spark  crackling 
serpentine  along  dry  leaves  to  sudden  flame.  A  thought  of 
Xevil  and  a  regret  had  done  it. 


CHAPTER  ym. 

A  NIGHT   ON    THE   ADEIATIO. 


The  lovers  met  after  Roland  had  spoken  to  his  sister — not 
exactly  to  advocate  the  cause  of  Nevil,  though  he  was  under 
the  influence  of  that  grave  night's  walk  with  him,  but  to 
sound  her  and  see  whether  she  at  all  shared  Nevil's  view  of 
her  situation.  Roland  felt  the  awfulness  of  a  Frf  nch  famil}'- 
ajrangement  of  a  marriage,  and  the  impertinence  of  a  foreign 
Cupid's  intrusion,  too  keenly  to  plead  for  his  friend :  at  the 
same  time  he  loved  his  friend  and  his  sister,  and  would  have 
been  very  ready  to  smile  blessings  on  them  if  favourable  cir- 
cumstances had  raised  a  signal;  if,  for  example,  apoplexy 
or  any  other  cordial  ex  machina  intervention  had  i-emoved  the 
middle-aged  marquis ;  and,  perhaps,  if  Renee  had  shown  the 
i'e])us"nance  to  her  eno-asrement  which  Xevil  declared  she 
must  have  in  her  heart,  he  would  have  done  more  than  smile; 
ho  would  have  laid  the  case  deferentially  before  his  father. 
His  own  opinion  was  that  young  unmarried  women  were 
incapable  of  the  passion  of  love,  being,  as  it  were,  but  half- 
feathered  in  that  state,  and  unable  to  fly ;  and  Renee  con- 
firmed it.  The  suspicion  of  an  advocacy  on  Xevil's  behalf 
steeled  her.  His  tentative  observations  were  checked  at  the 
outset. 

"Can  such  things  be  spoken  of  to  me,  Roland?  I  am 
pliQ-htcd.      You  know  it.'' 

He  shrugged,  said  a  word  of  pity  for  I^Tevil,  and  went  forth 


56 

to  let  his  fn'enrl  know  that  it  was  as  lie  had  predicted: 
Renee  was  obedience  in  person,  like  a  rightly  educated  French 
girl.  He  strongly  advised  his  friend  to  banish  all  hope  of 
her  from  his  mind.  But  the  mind  he  addressed  was  of  a 
curious  order ;  far-shooting,  tough,  persistent,  and  when 
acted  on  by  the  spell  of  devotion,  indomitable.  Nevil  put 
hope  aside,  or  rather,  he  clad  it  in  other  garments,  in  which 
it  was  hardly  to  be  recognized  by  himself,  and  said  to  Roland : 
"You  must  bear  this  from  me;  you  must  let  me  follow  you 
to  the  end,  and  if  she  wavers  she  will  find  me  near." 

Roland  could  not  avoid  asking  the  use  of  it,  considering 
that  Renee,  however  much  she  admired  and  liked,  was  not  in 
love  with  him. 

I^evil  resigned  himself  to  admit  that  she  was  not :  "  and 
therefore,"  said  he,  "  you  won't  object  to  my  remaining." 

Renee  greeted  Nevil  with  as  clear  a  conventional  air  as  a 
woman  could  assume. 

She  was  going,  she  said,  to  attend  High  ]\Iass  in  the  church 
of  »S.  Moise,  andshe  waved  her  devoutest  Roman  Catholicism 
to  show  the  breadth  of  the  division  between  them.  He  pro- 
posed to  go  likewise.  She  was  mute.  After  some  discourse 
she  contrived  to  say  inoffensively  that  people  who  strolled 
into  her  churches  for  the  music,  or  out  of  curiosity,  played 
the  barbarian. 

"  Well,  I  will  not  go,"  snid  Xevil. 

"  But  I  do  not  wish  to  number  you  among  them,"  she  said. 

"  Then,"  said  Nevill,  "  I  will  go,  for  it  cannot  be  barbarous 
to  try  to  be  with  you." 

"  No,  that  is  wickedness,"  said  Renee. 

She  was  sensible  that  conversation  betrayed  her,  and 
I^evil's  apparently  deliberate  pursuit  signified  to  her  that 
he  must  be  aware  of  his  mastery,  and  she  resented  it,  and 
stumbled  into  pitfalls  whenever  she  opened  her  lips.  It 
seemed  to  be  denied  to  them  to  utter  what  she  meant,  if 
indeed  she  had  a  meaning  in  speaking,  save  to  hurt  lierself 
cruelly  by  wounding  the  man  who  had  caught  her  in  the 
toils  :  and  so  long  as  she  could  imagine  that  she  was  the  only 
one  hurt,  she  was  the  braver  and  the  harsher  for  it ;  but  at 
the  sight  of  j^evil  in  pain  her  heart  relented  and  shifted,  and 
discovering  it  to  be  so  weak  as  to  be  almost  at  his  mercy,  she 
defended  it  with  an  aggressive  unkindness,  for  which,  in 
charity  to  her  sweeter  nature,  she  had  to  ask  his  pardon,  and 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  ADRIATIC.  57 

then  had  to  fib  to  give  reasons  for  her  conduct,  and  then  to 
pretend  to  herself  that  her  pride  was  humbled  by  him  ;  a 
most  humiliating  round,  constantly  recurring  ;  the  worse  for 
the  reflection  that  she  created  it.  She  attempted  silence. 
Nevil  spoke,  and  was  like  the  magical  piper  :  she  was  com- 
pelled to  follow  him  and  dance  the  round  again,  with  the 
wretched  thought  that  it  must  resemble  coquettry.  Xevil 
did  not  think  so,  but  a  very  attentive  observer  now  upon  the 
scene,  and  possessed  of  his  half  of  the  secret,  did,  and  warned 
him.  E,osamund  Culling  added  that  the  French  girl  might 
be  only  an  unconscious  coquette,  for  she  was  young.  The 
critic  would  not  undertake  to  pronounce  on  her  suggestion, 
whether  the  candour  apparent  in  merely  coquettish  instincts 
was  not  more  dangerous  than  a  battery  of  the  arts  of  the 
sex.  She  had  heard  Nevil's  frank  confession,  and  seen 
Renee  twice,  when  she  tried  in  his  service,  though  not  greatly 
wishing  for  success,  to  stir  the  sensitive  girl  for  an  answer 
to  his  attachment.  Probably  she  went  to  work  transparently, 
after  the  insular  fashion  of  opening  a  spiritual  mystery  with 
the  lancet.  Renee  suffered  herself  to  be  probed  here  and 
there,  and  revealed  nothing  of  the  pain  of  the  operation.  She 
said  to  Nevil,  in  Rosamund's  hearing : 

"  Have  you  the  sense  of  honour  acute  in  your  country  ?'* 

Nevil  inquired  for  the  apropos. 

"  None,"  said  she. 

Such  pointed  insolence  disposed  Rosamund  to  an  irritable 
antagonism,  without  reminding  her  that  she  had  given  some 
cause  for  it. 

Renee  said  to  her  presently  :  "  He  saved  my  brother's  life;" 
the  apropos  being  as  little  perceptible  as  before. 

Her  voice  dropped  to  her  sweetest  deep  tones,  and  there 
was  a  supplicating  beam  in  her  eyes,  unintelligible  to  the 
direct  Englishwoman,  except  under  the  heading  of  a  power 
of  witchery  fearful  to  think  of  in  one  so  young,  and  loved  by 
Nevil. 

The  look  was  turned  upon  her,  not  upon  her  hero,  and 
Rosamund  thought,  "  Does  she  want  to  entangle  me  as 
well  ?" 

It  was,  in  truth,  a  look  of  entreaty  from  woman  to  woman, 
signifying  need  of  womanly  help.  Renee  would  have  made 
a  confidante  of  her,  if  she  had  not  known  her  to  be  Nevil's, 
and  devoted  to  him.     "  I  would  speak  to  you,  but  that  I  feel 


58  BEATJCHAMP'S  CAREEB. 

you  would  betray  me,"  her  eyes  had  said.  The  strong  sin- 
cerity dwelling  amid  multiform  complexities  might  have 
made  itself  comprehensible  to  the  English  lady  for  a  moment 
or  so,  had  Renee  spoken  words  to  her  ears  ;  but  belief  in  it 
would  hardly  have  survived  the  girl's  next  convolutions. 
"  She  is  intensely  French,"  Rosamund  said  to  Nevil — a 
volume  of  insular  criticism  in  a  sentence. 

"You  do  not  know  her,  ma'am,"  said  Nevil,  "  You  think 
her  older  than  she  is,  and  that  is  the  error  I  fell  into.  She 
is  a  child." 

"  A  serpent  in  the  esg  is  none  the  less  a  serpent,  Nevil. 
Forgive  me  ;  but  when  she  tells  you  the  case  is  hopeless  !" 

"  No  case  is  hopeless  till  a  man  consents  to  think  it  is  ; 
and  I  shall  stay." 

"  But  then  again,  Nevil,  you  have  not  consulted  your 
uncle." 

'•  Let  him  see  her  !  let  him  only  see  her  !" 

Rosamund  Culling  reserved  her  opinion  compassionately. 
His  uncle  would  soon  be  calling  to  have  him  home :  society 
panted  for  him  to  make  much  of  him  :  and  here  he  was, 
cursed  by  one  of  his  notions  of  duty,  in  attendance  on  a 
captious  young  French  beauty,  who  was  the  less  to  be  excused 
for  not  dismissing  him  peremptorily,  if  she  cared  for  him 
at  all.  His  career,  which  promised  to  be  so  brilliant,  was 
spoiling  at  the  outset.  Rosamund  thought  of  Renee  almost 
with  detestation,  as  a  species  of  sorceress  that  had  dug  a 
trench  in  her  hero's  road,  and  unhorsed  and  fast  fettered 
him. 

The  marquis  was  expected  immediately.  Renee  sent  up 
a  little  note  to  Mi\s.  Culling's  chamber  early  in  the  morning, 
and  it  was  with  an  air  of  one-day-more-to-ourselves,  that, 
meeting  her,  she  entreated  the  English  lady  to  join  the 
expedition  mentioned  in  her  note.  Roland  had  hired  a  big 
Chioggian  fisbing-boat  to  sail  into  the  gulf  at  night,  and 
return  at  dawn,  and  have  sight  of  Venice  rising  from  the 
sea.  Her  father  had  declined  ;  but  M.  Nevil  wished  to  be 
one  of  the  party,  and  in  that  case  ...?...  Renee  threw 
herself  beseechingly  into  the  mute  interrogation,  keeping 
both  of  Rosamund's  hands.  They  could  slip  away  only  by 
deciding  to,  and  this  rare  Englishwoman  had  no  taste  for 
the  petty  overt  hostilities.  "  If  I  can  be  of  use  to  you,"  she 
said. 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  ADRIATIC.  59 

"If  yon  can  bear  sea-pitching  and  tossing  for  the  sake 
of  the  loveliest  sight  in  the  whole  world,"  said  Renee. 

"  I  know  it  well,"  Rosamnnd  replied. 

Renee  rippled  her  eyebrows.  She  divined  a  something 
behind  that  remark,  and  as  she  was  aware  of  the  grief  of 
Rosamund's  life,  her  quick  intuition  whispered  that  it 
might  be  connected  with  the  gallant  officer  dead  on  the 
battle-field. 

"  Madame,  if  you  know  it  too  well  .  .  .  .   "  she  said. 

"  'No ;  it  is  always  worth  seeing,"  said  Rosamund,  "  and 
I  think,  mademoiselle,  with  your  permission,  1  should 
accompany  you." 

"  It  is  only  a  whim  of  mine,  madame.  I  can  stay  on 
shore." 

"  Not  when  it  is  unnecessary  to  forego  a  pleasure." 

"  Say,  my  last  day  of  freedom." 

Renee  kissed  her  hand. 

She  is  terribly  winning,  Rosamund  avowed.  Renee  was 
in  debate  whether  the  woman  devoted  to  Nevil  would  hear 
her  and  help. 

Just  then  Roland  and  N"evil  returned  from  their  boat, 
where  they  had  left  carpenters  and  upholsterers  at  work, 
and  the  delicate  chance  for  an  understanding  between  the 
ladies  passed  by. 

The  young  men  were  like  waves  of  ocean  overwhelming 
it,  they  were  so  full  of  their  boat,  and  the  scouring  and 
cleaning  out  of  it,  and  provisioning,  and  making  it  worthy 
of  its  freight.  Nevil  was  surprised  that  Mrs.  Culling 
should  have  consented  to  come,  and  asked  her  if  she  really 
wished  it — really;  and  "Really,"  said  Rosamund;  "cer- 
tainly." 

"Without  dubitation,"  cried  Roland.  "And  now  my 
little  Renee  has  no  more  shore-qualms ;  she  is  smoothly 
chaperoned,  and  madame  will  present  us  tea  on  board.  All 
the  etceteras  of  life  are  there,  and  a  mariner's  eye  in  me 
spies  a  breeze  at  sunset  to  waft  us  out  of  Malamocco." 

The  count  listened  to  the  recital  of  their  preparations 
with  his  usual  absent  interest  in  everything  not  turning 
upon  Art,  politics,  or  social  intrigue.  He  said,  "  Yes,  good, 
good,"  at  the  proper  intervals,  and  walked  down  the  riva  to 
look  at  the  busy  boat,  said  to  Nevil,  "  You  are  a  sailor ;  I 
confide  my  family  to  you,"  and  prudently  counselled  Renee 


•60  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

to  put  on  the  dresses  she  could  toss  to  the  deep  witliout 
regrets.  Mrs.  Culling  he  thanked  fervently  for  a  wonderful 
stretch  of  generosity  in  lending  her  presence  to  the  mad- 
caps. 

Altogether  the  day  was  a  reanimation  of  external  Venice. 
But  there  was  a  thunderbolt  in  it ;  for  about  an  hour  before 
sunset,  when  the  ladies  were  superintending  and  tr3ang  not 
to  criticize  the  ingenious  efforts  to  produce  a  make-believe 
of  comfort  on  board  for  them,  word  was  brought  down  to 
the  boat  by  the  count's  valet  that  the  Marquis  de  Kouaillout 
had  arrived.  Renee  turned  her  face  to  her  brother  super- 
ciliously. Roland  shrugged.  "Note  this,  my  sister,"  he 
said ;  "  an  anticij^ation  of  dates  in  paying  visits  precludes 
the  ripeness  of  the  sentiment  of  welcome.  It  is,  however, 
true  that  the  marquis  has  less  time  to  spare  tha:i  others." 

"  We  have  started  ;  we  are  on  the  open  sea.  How  can  wc 
put  back  ?"  said  Renee. 

"  You  hear,  rran9ois  ;  we  are  on  the  open  sea,"  Roland 
addressed  the  valet. 

"  Monsieur  has  cut  loose  his  communications  with  land,'' 
Fran9ois  responded,  and  bowed  fioui  t lie  landing. 

Nevil  hastened  to  make  this  a  true  report ;  but  they 
had  to  wait  for  tide  as  well  as  breeze,  and  pilot  through 
intricate  mud-channels  before  they  could  see  the  outside  of 
the  Lido,  and  meanwhile  the  sun  lay  like  a^golden  altar- 
platter  on  mud-banks  made  bate  by  the  ebb,  and  curled  in 
drowsy  yellow  links  along  the  currents.  All  they  could  do 
was  to  push  off  and  hang  loose,  bumi)ing  to  right  and  left 
in  the  midst  of  volleys  and  countervoUc^^s  of  fishy  Venetian,^ 
Chioggian,  and  Dalmatian,  quite  as  strong  as  anything  ever 
heard  down  the  Canalaggio.  The  representatives  of  these 
dialects  trotted  the  decks  ard  hung  their  bodies  half  over 
the  sides  of  the  vessels  to  deliver  fire,  flashed  eyes  and 
snapped  fingers,  not  a  whit  less  tierce  than  hostile  crews  in 
the  old  wars  hurling  an  interchange  of  stink-pots,  and  then 
resumed  the  trot,  apparently  in  search  of  fresh  ammunition. 
An  Austrian  sentinel  looked  on  passively,  and  a  police  in- 
spector peeringly.  They  were  used  to  it.  Hiippily,  the  com- 
bustible import  of  the  language  was  unknown  to  the  ladies, 
and  Nevil's  attempts  to  keep  his  crew  quiet,  contrasting  with 
Roland's  phlegm,  which  a  Frenchman  can  assume  so  philoso- 
phically when  his  tongue  is  tied,  amused  them.     During  the 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  ADRIATIC.  (31 

clamour,  Renee  saw  her  father  beckoning  from  the  riva. 
She  signified  that  she  was  no  longer  in  command  of  circam- 
stances;  the  vessel  was  off.  But  the  count  stamped  his  foot, 
and  nodded  imperatively.  Thereupon  Roland  repeated  the 
eloquent  demonstrations  of  Renee,  and  the  count  lost  patience, 
and  Roland  shouted,  "  For  the  love  of  heaven,  don't  join  this 
Babel;  we're  nearly  bursting-."  The  rage  of  the  Babel  was 
allayed  by  degrees,  though  not  appeased,  for  the  boat  was 
behaving  wantonly,  as  the  police  officer  pointed  out  to  the 
count. 

Renee  stood  up  to  bend  her  head.  It  was  in  reply  to  a 
salute  from  the  Marquis  de  Rouaillout,  and  JS^evil  beheld  his 
rival. 

"  M.  le  Marquis,  seeing  it  is  out  of  the  question  that  we 
can  come  to  you,  will  you  come  to  us  ?"  cried  Roland. 

The  marquis  gesticulated  "  With  alacrity  "  in  every  limb 

"  We  will  bring  you  back  on  to-morrow  midnight's  tide, 
safe,  we  promise  you." 

The  marquis  advanced  a  foot,  and  withdrew  it.  Could  he 
have  heard  correctly  ?  They  were  to  be  out  a  whole  night 
at  sea!  The  count  dejectedly  confessed  his  inca.mbility  to 
restrain  them :  the  young  desperadoes  were  ready  foi-  any- 
thing. He  had  tried  the  voice  of  authority,  and  was  laughed 
at.     As  to  Renee,  an  English  lady  was  with  her. 

"  The  English  lady  must  be  as  mad  as  the  rest,"  said  the 
marquis. 

"  The  English  are  mad,"  said  the  count ;  "  but  their  women 
are  strict  upon  the  proprieties." 

"  Possibly,  my  dear  count ;  but  what  room  is  there  for  the 
proprieties  on  board  a  fishing-boat  ?" 

""  It  is  even  as  you  say,  my  dear  marquis." 

"You  allow  it?" 

"  Can  I  help  myself  ?  Look  at  them.  They  t^ll  me  they 
have  given  the  boat  the  fittings  of  a  yacht." 

"  And  the  young  man  ?" 

"  That  is  the  M.  Beauchamp  of  whom  I  have  spoken  to 
you,  the  very  pick  of  his  country,  fresh,  lively,  original ;  and 
he  can  converse.     You  will  like  him." 

"I  hope  so,"  said  the  marquis,  and  ronsed  a  doleful  laugh. 
"  It  would  seem  that  one  does  not  arrive  by  hastening  !" 

"  Oh !  but  my  dear  marquis,  you  have  paid  the  C')niplinn'nt; 
you  are  like  Spring  thrusting  in  a  bunch  of  lilac  while  the 


62  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEB. 

winds  of  winter  blow.     If  jou  were  not  expected,  yonr  expe- 
ditionsness  is  appreciated,  be  sure." 

Roland  fortunately  did  not  hear  tbe  marquis  compared  to 
Spring.     He  was  saying  :  "  I  wonder  what  those  two  elderly 
gentlemen  are  talking  about ;"  and  Nevil  confused  his  senses 
by  tiying  to  realize  that  one  of  them  was  destined  to  be  the 
husband  of  his  now  speechless  Renee.     The  marquis  was  clad 
in  a  white  silken  suit,  and  a  dash  of  red  round  the  neck 
set  off  his  black  beard ;  but  when  he  lifted  his  broad  straw 
hat,  a  baldness  of  sconce  shone.     There  was  elegance  in  his 
gestures  ;   he  looked  a  gentleman,  though  an  ultra- Galilean 
one,  that  is,  too  scrupulously  finished  for  our  taste,  smelling 
of  the  valet.     He  had  the  habit  of  balancing  his  body  on 
the  hips,   as    if  to    emphasize    a   juvenile    vigour,    and 'his 
general  attitude  suggested  an  idea  that  he  had  an  oration 
for  you.     Seen  from  a  distance,  his  baldness  and  strong  nasal 
projection  were  not  winning  features  ;  the  youthful  standard 
he  had  evidently  prescribed  to  himself  in  his  dress  and  his 
reiidy  jerks  of  acquiescence  and  delivery  might  lead  a  forlorn 
rival  to  conceive  him  something  of  an  ogre  straining  at  an 
Adonis.     It  could  not  be  disputed  that  he  boie  his  disappoint- 
ment remarkably  well;  the  m.ore  laudably,  because  his  j)osi- 
tion  was  within  a  step  of  the  ridiculous,  for  he  had  shot 
himself  to  the  mark,  despising  sleep,  heat,  dust,  dirt,  diet, 
and  lo,  that  chnrming  object  was  deliberately  slipping  out 
of  reach,  proving  his  headlong  journey  an  absui'dity.     As  he 
stood  declining  to  participate  in   the   lunatic  voyage,  and 
bidding  them  perforce  good  speed  off  the  tips  of  his  fingers, 
Renee  turned  her  eyes  on  him,  and  away.     She  felt  a  little 
smart  of  pity,  arising  partly  from  her  antagonism  to  Roland's 
covert  laughter  :  but  it  was  the  colder  kind  of  feminine  pity, 
which  is  nearer  to  contempt  than  to  tenderness.     She  sat 
still,   placid  outwardly,   in  fear  of   herself,  so  strange  she 
found  it  to  be  borne  out  to  sea  by  her  sailor  lover  under  the 
eyes  of  her  betrothed.     She  was  conscious  of  a  tumultuous 
rush  of  sensations,  none   of   them  of  a  very  healthy  kind, 
coming  as  it  were  from  an  unlocked  chamber  of  her  bosom, 
hitherio  of  unimagined  contents  ;  and  the  marquis  being  now 
on  the  spot  to  defend  his  own,  she  no  longer  blamed  Xevil : 
it  was  otherwise  utterly.     All  the  sweeter  side  of  pity  was 
for  him.     He  was   at   first   amazed   by  the  sudden  exquisite 
transition.     Tenderness  breathed  from  her,  in  voice,  in  look, 


A  NIGHT  ON   THE  ADRIATIC.  63 

in  toucli ;  for  slie  accepted  his  help  that  he  mic'ht  lead  her 
to  the  stern  of  the  vessel,  to  gaze  well  on  setting  Venice,  and 
sent  lightnings  np  his  veins ;  she  leaned  beside  him  over  the 
vessel's  rails,  not  separated  from  him  bj  the  breadth  of  a 
fluttering  riband.  Like  him,  she  scarcely  heard  her  brother 
when  for  an  instant  he  intervened,  and  with  Xevil  she  said 
adieu  to  Venice,  where  the  faint  red  Doge's  palace  was  like 
the  fading  of  another  sunset  north-westward  of  the  glory 
along  the  hills,  Venice  dropped  lower  and  lower,  breasting 
the  waters,  until  it  was  a  thin  line  in  air.  The  line  was 
broken,  and  ran  in  dots,  with  here  and  there  a  pillar  stand- 
ing on  opal  sky.     At  last  the  topmost  campanile  sank. 

Renee  looked  np  at  the  sails,  and  back  for  the  submerged 
city. 

"  It  is  gone !"  she  said,  as  though  a  marvel  had  been 
worked  ;  and  swiftly  :  "  we  have  one  night !" 

She  breathed  it  half  like  a  question,  like  a  petition,  catch- 
ing her  breath.  The  adieu  to  Venice  was  her  assurance  of 
liberty,  out  Venice  hidden  rolled  on  her  the  sense  of  the 
return  and  plucked  shrewdly  at  her  tether  of  bondage. 

They  set  their  eyes  toward  the  dark  gulf  ahead.  The 
night  was  growing  starry.  The  softly  ruffled  Adi-iatic  tossed 
no  foam. 

"  One  night  ?"  said  Nevil ;  "  one  ?     Why  only  one  ?" 

Renee  shuddered.     "  Oh  !  do  not  speak." 

"  Then,  give  me  your  hand." 

"  There,  my  friend." 

He  pressed  a  hand  that  was  like  a  quivering  chord.  She 
gave  it  as  though  it  had  been  his  own  to  claim.  Btit  that  it 
meant  no  more  than  a  hand  he  knew  by  the  Yevj  frankness 
of  her  compliance,  in  the  manner  natural  to  her;  and  this 
was  the  charm,  it  filled  him  with  her  peculiar  image  and 
spirit,  and  while  he  held  it  he  was  subdued. 

Lying  on  the  deck  at  midnight,  wrapt  in  his  cloak  and  a 
coil  of  rope  for  a  pillow,  considerably  apart  from  jesting- 
Roland,  the  recollection  of  that  little  sanguine  spot  of  time 
when  Renee's  life-blood  ran  with  his,  began  to  heave  under 
him  like  a  swelling  sea.  For  Nevil  the  starred  black  night 
was  Renee.  Half  his  heart  was  in  it :  but  the  combative 
division  flew  to  the  morning  and  the  deadly  iniquity  of  the 
marriage,  from  w^hich  he  resolved  to  save  her ;  in  pui-e  de- 
votedness,  he  believed.     And  so  he  closed  his  eyes.     She,  a 


64 

girl,  with  a  heart  fluttering  open  and  fearing,  felt  only  that 
she  had  lost  herself  somewhere,  and  vshe  had  neither  sleep 
nor  symbols,  nothing  but  a  sense  of  infinite  strangeness,  as 
though  she  were  borne  snperhumanly  through  space. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MORNING  AT  SEA  UNDER  THE  ALPS. 

Tfb  breeze  blew  steadily,  enough  to  swell  the  sails  and 
sweep  the  vessel  on  smoothly.  The  night  air  dropped  no 
moisture  on  deck. 

Nevil  Beauchamp  dozed  for  an  hour.  He  was  awakened 
by  light  on  his  eyelids,  and  starting  up  beheld  the  many 
pinnacles  of  grey  and  red  rocks  and  shadowy  high  white 
regions  at  the  head  of  the  gulf  waiting  for  the  sun  ;  and  the 
sun  struck  them.  One  by  one  they  came  out  in  crimson 
flame,  till  the  vivid  host  appeared  to  have  stepped  forward. 
The  shadows  on  the  snow-fields  deepened  to  purple  below  an 
irradiation  of  rose  and  pink  and  dazzling  silver.  There  of 
all  the  world  3^ou  might  imagine  Gods  to  sit.  A  crowd  of 
mountains  endless  in  range,  erect,  or  flowing,  shattered  and 
arid,  or  leaning  in  smooth  lustre,  hangs  above  the  gulf.  The 
mountains  are  sovereign  Alps,  and  the  sea  is  beneath  them." 
The  whole  gigantic  body  keeps  the  sea,  as  with  a  hand,  to 
right  and  left. 

l^evil's  personal  rapture  craved  for  Renee  with  the  second 
long  breath  he  drew  ;  and  now  the  curtain  of  her  tent-cabin 
parted,  and  greeting  him  with  a  half  smile,  she  looked  out. 
The  Adriatic  was  dark,  the  Alps  had  heaven  to  themselves. 
Crescents  and  hollows,  rosy  mounds,  white  shelves,  shining 
ledges,  domes  and  peaks,  all  the  towering  heights  were  in 
illumination  from  Friuli  into  farthest  Tyrol ;  beyond  earth 
to  the  stricken  senses  of  the  gazers.  Colour  was  steadfast 
on  the  massive  front  ranks  :  it  wavered  in  the  remoteness, 
and  was  quick  and  dim  as  though  it  fell  on  beating  wings ; 
but  there  too  divine  colour  seized  and  shaped  forth  solid 
forms,  and  thence  away  to  others  in  uttermost  distances 
where  the  incredible  flickering  gleam  of  new  heights  arose, 


MORNING  AT  SEA  UNDER  THE  ALPS.  65 

that  soared,  or  stretclied  their  white  uncertain  carves  in  sky 

like  wings  travei-sing  infinity. 

It  seemed  unlike  moi-ning  to  the  lovers,  but  as  if  night  had 
broken  with  a  revelation  of  the  kingdom  in  the  heart  of 
nio-ht.  While  the  broad  smooth  waters  rolled  unlighted 
beneath  that  transfigured  upper  sphere,  it  was  possible  to 
think  the  scene  might  vanish  like  a  view  caught  out  of 
darkness  by  lightning.  Alp  over  burning  Alp,  and  around 
them  a  hueless  dawn  !  The  two  exulted  :  they  threw  off  the 
load  of  wonderment,  and  in  looking  they  had  the  delicious 
sensation  of  flight  in  their  veins. 

Rente  stole  toward  Xevil.  She  was  mystically  shaken 
and  at  his  meroy  ;  and  had  he  said  then,  "  Over  to  the 
otlier  land,  awav  from  Venice !"  she  would  have  bent  her 
head. 

She  asked  his  permission  to  rouse  her  brother  andmadame, 
so  that  they  should  nc^t  miss  the  scene. 

Roland  lay  in  the  folds  of  his  military  greatcoat,  too  com- 
pletely happy  to  be  disturbed,  Nevil  Beauchamp  chose  to 
think ;  and  Rosamund  Culling,  he  told  Renee,  had  been 
separated  from  her  husband  last  on  these  waters. 

"  Ah  !  to  be  unhappy  here,"  sighed  Renee.  "  I  fancied  it 
when  I  be: -ged  her  to  join  us.     It  was  in  her  voice." 

The  impressionable  girl  trembled.  He  knew  he  was  dear 
to  her,  and  for  that  reason,  judging  of  her  by  himself,  he 
forbore  to  ui-g-e  his  advantage,  conceiving  it  base  to  fear  that 
loving  him  she  could  yield  her  hand  to  another ;  and  it  was 
the  critical  instmit.  She  was  almost  in  his  grasp.  A  word 
of  sharp  entrefity  would  have  swung  her  round  to  see  her 
situation  with  his  eyes,  and  detest  and  shrink  from  it.  He 
committed  the  capital  fault  of  treating  her  as  his  equal  in 
])assion  and  courage,  not  as  metal  ready  to  run  into  the 
mould  under  temporary  stress  of  fire. 

Even  later  in  the  morning,  when  she  was  cooler  and  he 
had  come  to  speak,  more  than  her  own  strength  was  needed 
to  resist  him.  The  struggle  was  hard.  The  boat's  head 
liad  been  put  about  for  Venice,  and  they  were  among  the 
dusky-red  Chioggian  sails  in  fishing  quarters,  expecting 
momently  a  campanile  to  signal  the  sea- city  over  the  level. 
Renee  waited  for  it  in  suspense.  To  her  it  stood  for  the 
implacable  key  of  a  close  and  stifling  chamber,  so  different 
from  this  brilliant  boundless  region  of  air,  that  she  sickened 


66  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

with  the  apprehension ;  but  she  knew  it  must  appear,  aiid 
soon,  and  therewith  the  contraction  and  the  gloom  it  indi- 
cated to  her  mind.  He  talked  of  the  beauty.  She  fretted 
at  it,  and  was  her  petulant  self  again  in  an  eiDigrammatic 
note  of  discord. 

He  let  that  pass. 

"  Last  night  you  said  '  one  night,'  "  he  whispered.  "  We 
will  have  another  sail  before  we  leave  Venice." 

"  One  night,  and  in  a  little  time  one  hour  !  and  next  one 
minute  !  and  there's  the  end,"  said  Rente. 

Her  tone  alarmed  him.  "  Have  you  forgotten  that  you 
gave  me  your  hand  ?" 

"  I  gave  my  hand  to  my  friend." 

"  You  gave  it  to  me  for  good." 

"  No  ;  I  dared  not ;  it  is  not  mine.** 

**  It  is  mine,"  said  Bcauchamp. 

Renee  pointed  to  the  dots  and  severed  lines  and  isolated 
columns  of  the  rising  city,  black  over  bright  sea. 

"  iMine  there  as  well  as  here,"  said  Beauchanip,  and 
looked  at  her  with  the  fiery  zeal  of  eyes  intent  on  niiniitest 
signs  for  a  confirmation,  to  shake  that  sad  negation  of  hev 
face. 

"  Renee,  you  cannot  break  the  pledge  of  the  hand  you 
gave  me  last  night." 

"  You  tell  me  how  weak  a  creature  I  am." 

"  You  are  me,  myself  ;  more,  better  than  me.  And  say, 
would  you  not  rather  coast  here  and  keep  the  city  umku' 
water  ?" 

She  conld  not  refrain  from  confessing  that  she  Avould  be 
glad  never  to  land  there. 

"  So,  wlien  you  land,  go  straight  to  your  father/'  said 
Beauchamp,  to  whose  conception  it  was  a  simple  act  i-usult- 
ing  from  the  avowal. 

"  Oh  !  you  torture  me,"  slie  cried.  Her  eyelashes  were 
heavy  with  tears.  "  I  cannot  do  it.  Think  what  you  will 
of  me!  And,  my  friend,  help  me.  Should  you  not  help 
me  ?  I  have  not  once  actually  disobeyed  my  father,  and  he 
has  indulged  me,  but  he  has  been  sui-e  of  me  as  a  dutiful 
girl.  That  is  my  source  of  se]f-res|)ect.  My  friend  can 
always  be  my  friend." 

"Yes,  while  it's  not  too  late,"  said  Beauchamp. 

She  observed  a   sudden   stringing  of  his  features.      He 


MOENING  AT  SEA  UNDER  THE  ALPS  67 

called  to  tlie  chief  boatman,  made  his  command  intelligible 
to  that  portly  capitano,  and  went  on  to  Roland,  who  was 
puffing  his  after-breakfast  cigarette  in  conversation  with 
the  tolerant  English  ladj. 

"  YoTi  condescend  to  notice  ns,  signer  Beauchamp  ?"  said 
Roland.     "  The  vessel  is  np  to  some  manoeuvi^e  ?" 

"  We  have  decided  not  to  land,"  replied  Beauchamp. 
"  And  Roland,"  he  checked  the  Frenchman's  shout  of 
laughter,  "  I  think  of  making  for  Trieste.  Let  me  speak  to 
you,  to  both.     Renee  is  in  misery.     She  must  not  go  back." 

Roland  sprang  to  his  feet,  stared,  and  walked  over  to 
Renee. 

"N'evil,"  said  Rosamund  Culling,  "do  you  know  what 
you  are  doing  ?" 

"  Perfectly,"  said  he.  "  Come  to  her.  She  is  a  girl,  and 
I  must  think  and  act  for  her." 

Roland  met  them. 

"  My  dear  l!^evil,  are  you  in  a  state  of  delusion  ?  Renee 
denies  .   .  .  ." 

"  There's  no  delusion,  Roland.  I  am  determined  to  stop 
a  catastrophe.  I  see  it  as  plainly  as  those  Alps.  There  is 
only  one  way,  and  that's  the  one  I  have  chosen." 

"  Chosen  !  my  friend.  But  allow  me  to  remind  yoa  that 
you  have  others  to  consult.     And  Renee  herself  .  .   .  ." 

"  She  is  a  girl.     She  loves  me,  and  I  speak  for  her." 

"  She  has  said  it  ?" 

"  She  has, more  than  said  it." 

"You  strike  me  to  the  deck,  Nevil.  Either  you  are 
downright  mad — which  seems  theJikeliest,  or  we  are  all  in 
a  nightmare.  Can  you  suppose  I  will  let  my  sister  be  car- 
ried away  the  deuce  knows  where,  while  her  father  is 
expecting  her,  and  to  fulfil  an  engagement  aSecting  hia 
pledged  word  ?" 

Beauchamp  simply  replied: 

"  Come  to  her.'* 


68  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEBEB. 

CHAPTER  X. 

A  SINGULAE  COUNCIL. 

The  four  sat  together  rmder  the  shadow  of  the  helmsman, 
bj  whom  they  were  regarded  as  voyagers  in  debate  upon  the 
question  of  some  hours  further  on  salt  water.  "  No  bora," 
he  threw  in  at  intervals,  to  assure  them  that  the  obnoxious 
viind  of  the  Adriatic  need  not  disturb  their  calculations. 

It  was  an  extraordinary  sitting,  but  none  of  the  parties  to 
it  thought  of  it  so  when  Nevil  Beauchamp  had  plunged  thera 
into  it.  He  compelled  them,  even  Renee — and  she  would 
have  flown  had  there  been  wings  on  her  shoulders — to  feel 
.something  of  the  life  and  death  issues  present  to  his  soul,  and 
submit  to  the  discussion,  in  plain  language  of  the  market- 
place, of  the  most  delicate  of  human  subjects  foi' her,  for  him, 
and  hardly  less  for  the  other  two.  An  overmastering  fervour 
can  do  this.  It  upsets  the  vessel  we  float  in,  and  we  have 
to  swim  our  way  out  of  deep  waters  by  the  directest  use  of 
the  natural  faculties,  without  much  reflection  on  the  change 
in  our  habits.  To  others  not  under  such  an  influence  the 
position  seems  impossible.  This  discussion  occurred.  Beau- 
champ  opened  the  case  in  a  couple  of  sentences,  and  when 
the  turn  came  for  Renee  to  speak,  and  she  shrank  from  the 
task  in  manifest  pain,  he  spoke  for  her,  and  no  one  heard 
her  contradiction.  She  would  have  wished  the  fearful 
impetuous  youth  to  succeed  if  she  could  have  slept  through 
the  storm  he  was  rousing. 

Roland  appealed  to  her.  "  You  !  my  sister,  it  is  you  that 
consent  to  this  wild  freak,  enough  to  break  your  father's 
heart  ?" 

He  had  really  forgotten  his  knowledge  of  her  character — 
what  much  he  knew — in  the  dust  of  the  desperation  flung 
about  her  by  Nevil  Beauchamp. 

She  shook  her  head ;  she  had  not  consented. 

•  'The  man  she  loves  is  her  voice  and  her  will,"  said  Beau- 
champ.    "  She  gives  me  her  hand  and  I  lead  her." 

Roland  questioned  her.  It  could  not  be  denied  that  she 
nad  given  her  hand,  and  her  bewildered  senses  made  her 
think  that  it  had  been  with  an  entire  abandonment ;  and  in 


A  SINGULAR  COUNCIL.  ^9 

the  heat  of  her  conflict  of  feelings,  the  deliciousness  of 
yielrling'  to  him  curled  round  and  enclosed  her,  as  in  a  cool 
humming  sea-shell. 

"  Ilenee  !"  said  Roland. 

"  Brother  !"  she  cried. 

"  You  see  that  I  cannot  suffer  jon  to  be  borne  away." 

"Xo;  do  not!" 

But  the  boat  was  flying  fast  from  Venice,  and  she  could 
have  fallen  at  his  feet  and  kissed  them  for  not  countermand- 
irg  it. 

''  You  are  in  my  charge,  my  sister." 

"  Yes." 

"  And  now,  Nevil,  between  us  two,"  said  Roland. 

Beauchamp  required  no  challenge.  He  seemed,  to  Rosa- 
mund Culling,  twice  older  than  he  was,  strangely  adept,  yet 
more  strangely  wise  of  worldly  matters,  and  eloquent  too. 
But  it  was  the  eloquence  of  frenzy,  madness,  in  Roland's 
ear.  The  arrogation  of  a  terrible  foresight  that  harped  on 
present  and  future  to  persuade  him  of  the  righteousness  of 
this  headlong  proceeding  advocated  by  his  fi^iend,  vexed  his 
natural  equanimity.  The  argument  was  out  of  the  domain 
of  logic.  He  could  hardly  sit  to  listen,  and  tore  at  his 
moustache  at  each  end.  Nevei-theless  his  sister  listened. 
The  mad  Englishman  accomplished  the  miracle  of  making 
her  listen,  and  appear  to  consent. 

Roland  laughed  scornfully.  "  Why  Trieste  ?  I  ask  you, 
wliy  Trieste  ?  You  can't  have  a  Catholic  priest  at  your 
bidding,  without  her  father's  sanction." 

"  Wo  leave  Renee  at  Trieste,  under  the  care  of  madame," 
said  Beauchamp,  "  and  we  return  to  Venice,  and  I  go  to 
your  father.     This  method  protects  Renee  from  annoyance." 

"It  strikes  me  that  if  she  arrives  at  any  determination 
she  must  take  the  consequences." 

"  She  does.  She  is  bi-ave  enough  for  that.  But  she  is  a 
girl ; .  she  has  to  fight  the  battle  of  her  life  in  a  day,  and  I 
am  her  lover,  and  she  leaves  it  to  me." 

"  Is  my  sister  such  a  coward  ?"  said  Roland. 

Renee  could  only  call  out  his  name. 

"  It  will  never  do,  my  dear  Nevil ;"  Roland  tried  to  deal 
with  his  unreasonable  friend  affectionately.  "  I  am  respon- 
sible for  her.  It's  your  own  fault — if  yon  had  not  saved  my 
life  I  should  not  have  been  in  your  way.     Here  I  am,  and 


70 

your  proposition  can't  be  heard  of.  Do  as  joii  will,  both  of 
you,  when  you  step  ashore  in  Venice." 

"  If  she  goes  back  she  is  lost,"  said  Beauchamp,  and  he 
attacked  Roland  on  the  side  of  his  love  for  lienee,  and  for 
liim. 

Roland  was  inflexible.  Seeing  which,  Renee  said,  "  To 
Venice,  quickly,  my  brother !"  and  now  she  almost  sighed 
with  relief  to  think  that  she  was  escaping  from  this  hurri- 
cane of  a  youth,  who  swept  her  olf  her  feet  and  wrapt  her 
whole  being  in  a  delirium. 

"  We  were  in  sight  of  the  city  just  now  !"  cried  Roland, 
staring  and  frowning.     "  What's  this  r^" 

Beauchamp  answered  him  calmly,  "  The  boat's  under  m^- 
orders." 

'^  Talk  madness,  but  don't  act  it,"  said  Roland.  "  Round 
with  the  boat  at  once.  Hundred  devils  !  you  haven't  your 
wits." 

To  his  amazement,  Beauchamp  refused  to  alter  the  boat's 
present  course. 

"  You  heard  my  sister  ?"  said  Roland. 

"  Tou  frighten  her,"  said  Beauchamp. 

**  You  heard  her  wish  to  return  to  Venice,  I  say." 

"  She  has  no  wish  that  is  not  mine." 

It  came  to  Roland's  shouting  his  command  to  the  men, 
while  Beauchamp  pointed  the  course  on  for  them. 

"  You  will  make  this  a  ghastly  pleasantry,"  said  Roland 

*  'I  do  what  I  know  to  be  right,"  said  Beauchamp. 

*'You  want  an  altercation  before  these  fellows  ?" 

"  There  won't  be  one  ;  they  obey  me." 

Roland  blinked  rapidly  in  wrath  nnd  doubt  of  mind. 

"  Madame,"  he  stooped  to  Rosamund  Culling,  with  a 
happy  inspiration,  "convince  him;  you  have  known  him 
longer  than  I,  and  I  desire  not  to  lose  my  friend.  And  tell  me, 
madame — I  can  trust  you  to  be  truth  itself,  and  you  can  see 
it  is  actually  the  time  for  truth  to  be  spoken — -is  he  justified 
in  taking  my  sister's  hand  ?  You  perceive  that  I  am  obliged 
to  appeal  to  you.  Is  he  not  dependent  on  his  uncle  ?  And 
is  he  not,  therefore,  in  your  opinion,  bound  in  reason  as  well 
as  in  honour  to  Av ait  for  his  uncle's  approbation  before  he 
undertakes  to  speak  for  my  sister  ?  And,  since  the  occasion 
is  urgent,  let  me  ask  you  one  thing  more  :  whether,  by  your 
knowledge  of  his  position,  you  think  him  entitled  to  pi  csume 


A  SrN"aULATl  corN-ciL.  71 

to  decide  upon  my  sister's  destiny  ?  She,  yon  are  aware,  is 
not  so  young  but  that  she  can  speak  for  herself  .  .   ."' 

'^  There  you  are  wrong,  Roland,"  said  Beauchanip  ;  "she 
can  neither  speak  nor  think  for  herself  :  you  lead  her  blind- 
folded." 

'•  And  you,  my  friend,  suppose  that  you  are  wiser  than 
any  of  us.  It  is  understood.  I  venture  to  appeal  to  madame 
on  the  point  in  question." 

The  poor  lady's  heart  beat  dismally.  She  was  constrained 
to  answer,  and  said,  "  His  uncle  is  one  who  must  be  con- 
sulted." 

'•  You  hear  that,  Nevil,"  said  Roland. 

Beauchamp  looked  at  her  sharply  ;  ansfrily,  Rosamund 
feared.  She  had  struck  his  hot  brain  with  the  vision  of 
Everard  Romfrey  as  with  a  bar  of  iron.  If  Rosamund  had 
inclined  to  the  view  that  he  was  sure  of  his  uncle's  support, 
it  would  have  seemed  to  him  a  simple  confirmation  of  his 
sentiments,  but  he  was  not  of  the  same  temper  now  as  when 
he  exchiimed,  "Let  him  see  her  !"  and  could  imagine,  give 
him  only  Renee's  love,  the  world  of  men  subservient  to  his 
wishes. 

Then  he  was  dreaming ;  he  was  now  in  fiery  earnest,  for 
that  reason  accessible  to  facts  presented  to  him  ;  and  Rosa- 
mund's reluctantly  spoken  words  brought  his  stubborn 
uncle  before  his  eyes,  inflicting  a  sense  of  helplessness  of 
the  bitterest  kind. 

They  were  all  silent.  Beauchamp  stared  at  the  lines  of 
the  deck-planks. 

His  scheme  to  rescue  Renee  was  right  and  good ;  but  was 
he  the  man  that  should  do  it  ?  And  was  she,  moreover,  he 
thought — speculating  on  her  bent  head — the  woman  to  be 
forced  to  brave  the  world  with  him,  and  poverty  ?  She 
gave  him  no  sign.  He  was  assuredly  not  the  man  to  pre- 
tend to  powers  he  did  not  feel  himself  to  possess,  and  though 
from  a  personal,  and  still  more  from  a  lover's,  inability  to 
see  all  round  him  at  one  time  and  accurately  to  weigh  the 
forces  at  his  disposal,  he  had  gone  far,  he  was  not  a  wilful 
dreamer  nor  so  very  selfish  a  lover.  The  instant  his  con- 
sciousness of  a  superior  strength  failed  him  he  acknow- 
ledged it. 

Renee  did  not  look  up.  She  had  none  of  those  lightnings 
of  primitive  enei'gy,  nor  the  noble  rashness  and  reliance  on 


72 

her  lover,  which  his  imagination  had  filled  her  with ;  none. 
That  was  plain.  She  conid  not  even  venture  to  second  him. 
Had  she  done  so  he  would  have  held  out.  He  walked  to  the 
head  of  the  boat  without  replying. 

Soon  after  this  the  boat  was  set  for  Venice  again. 

When  he  rejoined  his  companions  he  kissed  Rosamund's 
hand,  and  Renee.  despite  a  confused  feeling  of  humiliation 
and  anger,  loved  him  for  it. 

Glittering  Venice  was  now  in  sight.  The  dome  of  Sta. 
Maria  Salute  shining  like  a  globe  of  salt. 

Roland  flung  his  arm  round  his  friend's  neck,  and  said, 
**  Forgive  me." 

"  You  do  what  you  think  right,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"  You  are  a  perfect  man  of  honour,  my  friend,  and  a  woman 
would  adore  you.  Girls  are  straws.  It's  part  of  Renee's 
religion  to   obey  her  father.     That's  why  I  was  astonished  ! 

.  .  1  owe  you  my  life,  and  I  ^vould  willingly  give  you  my 
sister  in  part  payment,  if  I  had  the  giving  of  her;  most 
willingly.     The  case  is,  that  she's  a  child,  and  you  ?" 

"Yes,  I'm  dependent,"'  Beauchamp  assented.  "I  can't 
act,  I  see  it.  That  scheme  wants  two  to  cany  it  out :  she 
has  no  courage.  I  feel  that  I  could  carry  the  day  with  my 
uncle,  but  I  can't  subject  her  to  the  risks,  since  she  dreads 
them  ;  I  see  it.  Yes,  I  see  that !  I  should  have  done  well, 
I  believe  ;  I  should  have  saved  her." 

"  Run  to  England,  get  your  uncle's  consent,  and  then  try." 

"No;  I  shall  go  to  her  father.*' 

"  My  dear  Xevil,  and  supposing  j^ou  have  Renee  to  back 
you — supposing  it,  I  say — won't  you  be  falling  on  exactly  the 
same  bayonet-point." 

"  If  I  leave  her!"  Beauchamp  interjected.  He  perceived 
the  quality  of  Renee's  unformed  character  which  he  could 
not  express. 

"  But  we  are  to  suppose  that  she  loves  you  ?" 

"  She  is  a  girl." 

"  You  return,  my  friend,  to  the  place  yon  started  from, 
as  you  did  on  the  canal  without  knowing  it.  In  my  opinion, 
frankly,  she  is  best  married.  And  I  think  so  all  the  more 
after  this  morning's  lesson.  You  understand  plainly  that  if 
you  leave  her  she  will  soon  be  pliant  to  the  legitimate  autho" 
rities  ;  and  why  not  'r'" 

"Listen  to  me,  Roland.     I  tell  you  she  loves  me.     I  am 


A  SINGULAE  COUNCIL.  73 

bound  to  her,  and  when — if  ever  I  see  her  unhappy,  I  will 
not  stand  by  and  look  on  quietly." 

Roland  shrugged.  "  The  future  not  being  born,  my  friend, 
■we  will  abstain  from  baptizing  it.  For  me,  less  privileged 
than  my  fellows,  I  have  never  seen  the  future.  Consequently 
I  am  not  in  love  with  it,  and  to  declare  myself  candidly  I  do 
not  care  for  it  one  snap  of  the  fingers.  Let  us  follow  our 
usages,  and  attend  to  the  future  at  the  hour  of  its  delivery. 
I  prefer  the  sage-femme  to  the  prophet.  From  my  heart, 
Nevil,  I  vvish  1  could  help  you.  We  have  charged  great 
guns  together,  but  a  family  arrangement  is  something  dif- 
ferent from  a  hostile  battery.  There's  Venice  !  and,  as  soon  as 
you  land,  my  responsibility's  ended.  Reflect,  I  pray  you,  on 
what  I  have  said  about  girls.  Upon  my  word,  I  discover 
myself  talking  wisdom  to  you.  Girls  are  precious  fragilities. 
]\Iarriage  is  the  mould  for  them ;  they  get  shape,  substance, 
solidity  :  that  is  to  say,  sense,  passion,  a  will  of  their  own  : 
and  grace  and  tenderness,  delicacy  ;  all  out  of  the  rude,  raw, 
qiniking  creatures  we  call  gii-ls.  Paris!  my  dear  Nevil. 
Paris  !     It's  the  book  of  women." 

The  grandeur  of  the  decayed  sea-city,  where  folly  had 
danced  Parisianly  of  old,  spread  brooding  along  the  waters 
in  morning  light;  beautiful;  but  with  that  inner  light  of 
liistory  seen  through  the  beauty-  Venice  was  like  a  lowered 
banner.  The  gi'eat  white  dome  and  the  campanili  watching 
above  her  were  still  brave  emblems.  Would  Paris  leave 
signs  of  an  ancient  vigour  standing  to  vindicate  dignity  when 
her  fall  came  ?     Nevil  thought  of  Renee  in  Paris. 

She  avoided  him.  She  had  retired  behind  her  tent-curtains, 
and  reappeared  only  when  her  father's  voice  hailed  the  boat 
fi'om  a  gondola.  The  count  and  the  marquis  were  sitting- 
together,  and  there  was  a  spare  gondola  for  the  voyagers,  so 
that  they  should  not  have  to  encounter  another  Babel  of  the 
riva.  Salutes  were  performed  with  lifted  hats,  nods,  and 
bows. 

"  Well,  my  dear  child,  it  has  all  been  very  wonderful  and 
uncomfortable  ?  "  said  the  count. 

"  Wonderful,  papa  ;  splendid." 

*'  No  qualms  of  any  kind  ?  '* 

"  None,  I  assure  you." 

«  And  madame  ?" 

"  Madame  will  confirm  it,  if  von  find  a  seat  for  her.** 


74  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Rosanmnd  Culling  was  received  in  the  count's  gondola, 
cordially  thanked,  and  placed  beside  the  marquis. 

"I  stay  on  board  and  pay  these  fellows,"  said  Roland, 

Renee  was  told  by  her  father  to  follow  madame.     He  had 
jumped  into  the  spare  gondola  and  offered  a  seat  to  Beau 
champ. 

"  Xo,"  cried  Renee,  arresting  Beauchamp,  "  it  is  I  who 
mean  to  sit  with  papa." 

Up  sprang  the  marquis  with  an  entreating,  "Made- 
moiselle !" 

"  M.  Beauchamp  will  entertain  you,  M.  le  marquis." 

"I  want  him  here,"  said  the  count;  and  Beauchamp 
showed  that  his  wish  was  to  enter  the  count's  gondola,  but 
Renee  had  recovered  her  aplomb,  and  decisively  said  "  No," 
and  Beauchamp  had  to  3'ield. 

That  would  have  been  an  opportunity  of  speaking  to  her 
father  without  a  formal  asking  of  leave.  She  knew  it  as  well 
as  Nevil  Beauchamp. 

Renee  took  his  hand  to  be  assisted  in  the  step  down  to  her 
father's  arms,  murmuring  : 

"  Do  nothing — nothing  !  until  you  liear  from  me." 


CHAPTER   XT. 

CAPTAIN     BASKELETT. 


Our  England,  meanwhile,  was  bustling  over  the  extin- 
guished war,  counting  the  cost  of  it,  with  a  rather  rueful  eye 
on  Manchester,  and  soothing  the  taxed  by  an  exhibition  of 
heroes  at  brilliant  feasts*.  Of  course,  the  first  to  come  home 
had  the  cream  of  the  praises.  She  hugged  them  in  a  manner 
somewhat  suffocating  to  modest  men,  but  heroism  must  be 
brought  to  bear  upon  these  excesses  of  maternal  admiration; 
modesty,  too,  when  it  accepts  the  place  of  honour  at  a  public 
banquet,  should  not  protest  overmuch.  To  be  j  ust,  the  earliest 
arrivals,  which  were  such  as  reached  the  shores  of  Albion 
before  her  war  was  at  an  end,  did  cordially  reciprocate  the 
hug.  They  were  taught,  and  they  believed  most  naturally, 
that  it  was  quite  as  well  to  repose  upon  her  bosom  as  to  have 


CAPTAIN  BASKELETT.  75 

stuck  to  their  posts.  Surely  there  was  a  consoious  weakness 
in  the  Spartans,  who  were  alw^ays  at  pains  to  discipline  their 
men  in  heroical  conduct,  and  rewarded  none  save  the  stand- 
fasts. A  system  of  that  sort  seems  to  betray  the  sense  of 
poverty  in  the  article.  Our  England  does  nothing  like  it. 
All  are  welcome  home  to  her  so  long  as  >he  is  in  w^ant  of 
them.  Besides,  she  has  to  please  the  taxpayer.  You  may 
track  a  shadowy  line  or  crazy  zigzag  of  policy  in  almost  every 
stroke  of  her  domestic  history :  either  it  is  the  forethought 
finding  it  necessary  to  stir  up  an  impulse,  or  else  dashing 
impulse  gives  a  lively  pull  to  the  afterthought :  policy 
becomes  evident  somehow,  clumsily  very  possibly.  How  can 
she  manage  an  enormous  middle-class,  to  keep  it  ljap]3y, 
other  than  a  little  clumsily  ?  The  managing  of  it  at  all  is  the 
wonder.  And  not  only  has  she  to  stupefy  the  taxpayer  by  a 
timely  display  of  feastings  and  fireworks,  she  has  to  stop  all 
that  nonsense  (to  quote  a  satiated  man  lightened  in  his  purse) 
at  the  right  moment,  about  the  hour  when  the  old  standfasts, 
who  have  simply  been  doing  duty,  return,  poor  jog-trot 
fellow^s,  and  a  complimentary  motto  or  tw^o  is  the  utmost 
she  can  present  to  them.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  true  she 
gives  her  first  loves,  those  early  birds,  fully  to  understand 
that  a  change  has  come  in  their  island  mother's  mind.  If 
there  is  a  balance  to  be  righted,  she  leaves  that  business  to 
society,  and  if  it  be  the  season  for  the  gathering  of  society, 
it  will  be  righted  more  or  less  ;  and  if  no  righting  is  done  at 
all,  perhaps  the  Press  will  incidentally  toss  a  leaf  of  laurel 
on  a  name  or  two :  thus  in  the  exercise  of  grumbling  doing 
good. 

With  few  exceptions,  Nevil  Beauchamp's  heroes  received 
the  motto  instead  of  the  sweetmeat.  England  expected  them 
to  do  their  duty ;  they  did  it,  and  she  was  not  dissatisfied, — 
nor  should  they  be.  Beauchamp,  at  a  distance  from  the 
scene,  chafed  with  customary  vehemence  concerning  the 
unjust  measure  dealt  to  his  favourites  :  Captain  Hardist,  of 
the  Diomed,  twenty  years  a  captain,  still  a  captain  !  Young 
Michell  denied  the  cross  !  Colonel  Evans  Cuif,  on  the  heights 
from  fii-st  to  last,  and  not  advanced  a  step  I  But  Prancer, 
and  Plunger,  and  Lammakin  were  thoroughly  luell  taken  care 
of,  this  critic  of  the  war  wrote  savagely,  reviving  an  echo  of 
a  queer  small  circumstance  occurring  in  the  midst  of  the 
high  dolour  and  anxiety  of  the  whole  nation,  and  which  a 


76  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

politic  country  preferred  to  foi'get,  as  we  will  do,  for  it  was» 
but  an  instance  of  strong  family  feeling  in  high  quarters  ; 
and  is  not  the  unity  of  the  country  founded  on  the  integrity 
of  the  family  sentiment?  Is  it  not  certain,  which  the 
master  tells  us,  that  a  line  is  but  a  continuation  of  a  number 
of  dots  ?  Xevil  Beauchamp  was  for  insisting  that  great 
Grovernment  officers  had  paid  more  attention  to  a  dot  or  two 
than  to  the  line.  He  appeared  to  be  at  war  with  his  country 
after  the  peace.  So  far  he  had  a  lively  ally  in  his  uncle 
Everard ;  but  these  remarks  of  his  were  a  portion  of  a  letter, 
whose  chief  burden  was  the  request  that  Everard  Romfrey 
would  back  him  in  proposing  for  the  hand  of  a  young  French 
lady,  she  being,  Beauchamp  smoothly  acknowledged,  engaged 
to  a  wealthy  French  marquis,  under  the  approbation  of  her 
family.  Could  mortal  folly  outstrip  a  petition  of  that  sort  ? 
And  apparently,  according  to  the  wording  and  emphasis  of 
the  letter,  it  was  the  mature  age  of  the  marquis  which  made 
Mr.  Beauchamp  so  particularly  desirous  to  stop  the  projected 
marriage  and  take  the  girl  himself.  He  appealed  to  his 
uncle  on  the  subject  in  a  '  really-really  '  remonstrative  tone, 
quite  overwhelming  to  read. — "  It  ought  not  to  be  permitted : 
by  all  the  laws  of  chivalry,  I  should  write  to  the  girl's  father 
to  interdict  it :  I  really  am  pai'ticeps  criminis  in  a  sin  against 
nature  if  I  don't !"  Mr.  Romfrey  intei-jected  in  burlesque  of 
his  ridiculous  nephew,  with  collapsing  laughter.  But  he 
expressed  an  indignant  surprise  at  IS^evil  for  allowing  Rosa- 
mund to  travel  alone. 

"  I  can  take  very  good  care  of  myself,"  Rosamund 
protested. 

"  You  can  do  hundreds  of  things  you  should  never  be 
obliged  to  do  while  he's  at  hand,  or  I,  ma'am,"  said  Mr. 
Romfrey.  "  The  fellow's  insane.  He  forgets  a  gentleman's 
duty.  Here's  his  '  humanity '  dogging  a  French  frock,  and 
pooh  ! — the  age  of  the  marquis  !  Fifty  ?  A  man's  beginning 
his  prime  at  fifty,  or  there  never  was  much  man  in  him. 
It's  the  mark  of  a  fool  to  take  everybody  for  a  bigger  fool 
than  himself — or  he  wouldn't  have  written  this  letter  to  me. 
He  can't  come  home  yet,  not  yet,  and  he  doesn't  know  when 
he  can !  Has  he  thrown  up  the  service  ?  I  am  to  preserve 
the  alliance  between  England  and  France  by  getting  this 
French  girl  for  him  in  the  teeth  of  her  marquis,  at  mj^  peril 
if  I  refuse !" 


CAPTAIN  BASKELETT.  i  < 

Rosamnnd  asked,  "  Will  you  let  me  see  where  ^evil  says 
that,  sii'  ■?" 

Mr.  Romfrey  tore  tlie  letter  to  strips.  "  He's  one  of  your 
fellows  who  cock  their  eyes  Aylien  they  mean  to  be  cunning. 
He  sends  you  to  do  the  wheedling,  that's  plain.  I  don't  say 
he  has  hit  on  a  bad  advocate ;  but  tell  him  I  back  him  in  no 
mortal  marriage  till  he  shows  a  pair  of  ej^aulettes  on  his 
shoulders.  Tell  him  lieutenants  are  fledglings — he's  not 
marriageable  at  present.  It's  a  very  pretty  sacrifice  of 
himself  he  intends  for  the  sake  of  the  alliance,  tell  him 
that,  but  a  lieutenant's  not  quite  big  enough  to  establish  it. 
You  will  know  what  to  tell  him,  ma'am.  And  say,  it's  the 
fellow's  best  friend  that  advises  him  to  be  out  of  it  and 
home  quick.  If  he  makes  one  of  a  French  trio,  he's  dislied. 
He's  too  late  for  his  luck  in  England.  Have  him  out  of 
that  mire,  we  can't  hope  for  more  now." 

Rosamund  postponed  her  mission  to  plead.  Her  heart 
was  withNevil;  her  understanding  was  easily  led  to  side 
against  him,  and  for  better  reasi)r:.s  than  Mr.  Romfrey  could 
be  aware  of :  so  she  was  assured  by  her  experience  of  the 
character  of  Mademoiselle  de  Croisnel.  A  certain  belief  in 
her  personal  arts  of  persuasion  had  stopped  her  from  writing 
on  her  homeward  journey  to  infoi-m  him  that  Nevil  was  not 
accompanying  her,  and  when  she  drove  over  Steynham 
Common,  triumphal  arches  and  the  odour  of  a  roasting  ox 
richly  browning  to  celebrate  the  hero's  return  alHicted  her 
mind  with  all  the  solid  arguments  of  a  common-sense- 
country  in  contravention  of  a  wild  lover's  vaporous  extra- 
vagances. Why  had  he  not  come  with  her  ?  The  disap- 
pointed ox  put  the  question  in  a  wavering  drop  of  the  cheers 
of  the  villagers  at  the  sight  of  the  carriage  without  their 
bleeding  hero.  Mr.-  Romfrey,  at  his  hall-doors,  merely 
screwed  his  eyebrows  ;  for  it  was  thequality  of  this  gentle- 
man to  foresee  most  human  events,  and  his  capacity  to  stifle 
astonishment  when  they  trifled  with  his  prognostics.  Rosa- 
mund had  left  iSTevil  fast  bound  in  the  meshes  of  the  young 
French  sorceress,  no  longer  leading,  but  submissively  follow- 
ing, expecting  blindly,  seeing  strange  new  virtues  in  the 
lurid  indication  of  what  appeared  to  border  on  the  reverse. 
How  could  she  plead  for  her  infatuated  darling  to  one  who 
was  common  sense  in  person  ?  Everard's  pointed  interroga- 
tions reduced  her  to  speak  defensively,  instead  of  attacking 


78  BEATJCKAMP's  CAEEER, 

and  claiming  his  aid  for  the  poor  enamoured  yonng  man. 
She  dared  not  say  that  N'evil  continued  to  be  absent  because 
he  was  now  encouraged  by  the  girl  to  remain  in  attendance 
on  her,  and  was  more  than  half  inspired  to  hope,  and  too 
artfully  assisted  to  deceive  the  count  and  the  marquis  under 
the  guise  of  simple  friendship.  Letters  passed  between 
them  in  books  given  into  one  another's  hands  with  an  auda- 
cious openness  of  the  saddest  augury  for  the  future  of  the 
pair,  and  Nevil  could  be  so  lost  to  reason  as  to  glory  in 
Reuee's  intrepidity,  which  he  justified  by  their  mutual  situa- 
tion, and  cherished  for  a  proof  that  she  was  getting  courage. 
In  fine,  Rosamund  abandoned  her  task  of  pleading,  l^evil's 
communications  gave  the  case  a  worse  and  worse  aspect : 
Renee  was  prepared  to  speak  to  her  father  ;  she  delayed  it ; 
then  the  two  were  to  part ;  they  weie  unable  to  perform  the 
terrible  sacrifice  and  slay  their  last  hope  ;  and  then  Nevil 
wrote  of  destiny — language  hitherto  unknown  to  him,  evi- 
dently the  tongue  of  Renee.  He  slipped  on  from  Italy  to 
France.  His  uncle  was  besieged  by  a  series  of  letters,  and 
his  cousin,  Cecil  Baskelett,  a  captain  in  England's  grand 
reserve  force — her  Horse  Guards,  of  the  Blue  division — 
helped  Everard  Romfrey  to  laugh  over  them.  It  was  not 
difficult,  alack !  Letters  of  a  lover  in  an  extremity  of  love, 
crying  for  help,  are  as  curious  to  cool  strong  men  as  the 
contortions  of  the  proved  heterodox  tied  to  a  stake  must 
have  been  to  their  chastening  clerical  judges.  Why  go  to 
the  fire  when  a  recantation  Avill  save  you  from  it  r  Why  not 
break  the  excruciating  faggot-bands,  and  escape,  when  you 
have  only  to  decide  to  do  it  ?  We  naturally  ask  why. 
Those  martyrs  of  love  or  religion  are  madmen.  Altogether, 
Nevil's  adjurations  and  supplications,  his  threats  of  wrath 
and  api:)eals  to  reason,  were  an  odd  mixture.  "  He  won't 
lose  a  chance  while  there's  breath  in  his  body,"  Everard 
said,  quite  good-humouredly,  though  he  deplored  that  the 
cliance  for  the  fellow  to  make  his  hero-parade  in  society, 
and  haply  catch  an  heiress,  was  waning.  There  was  an 
heiress  at  Steynham,  on  her  way  with  her  father  to  Italy, 
very  anxious  to  see  her  old  friend  ]S"evil — Cecilia  Halkett : 
and  very  inquisitive  this  young  lady  of  sixteen  was  to  know 
the  cause  of  his  absence.     She  heard  of  it  from  Cecil. 

"  And  one  morning  last  week  mademoiselle  was  running 


CAPTAIN  BASKELETT.  79 

away  witli  In'm,  and  the  next  morning  she  was  married  to 
her  marquis  !" 

Cecil  was  able  to  tell  her  that. 

"  I  used  to  be  so  fond  of  him,"  said  the  ingenuous  young 
lady.  Slie  had  to  thank  JSevil  for  a  Circassian  dress  and 
pearls,  which  he  had  sent  to  her  by  the  hands  of  Mrs.  Culling 
— a  pretty  present  to  a  girl  in  the  nursery,  she  thought,  and 
in  fact  she  chose  to  be  a  little  wounded  by  the  cause  of  his 
absence. 

'•  He's  a  £>*ood  creature — really,"  Cecil  spoke  on  his  cousin's 
belialf.  "  3.[ad;  he  always  will  be  mad.  A  dear  old  savage; 
always  amuses  me.  He  does  !  I  get  half  my  entertainment 
from  him." 

Captain  Baskelett  was  gifted  with  the  art,  which  is  a  fine 
and  a  precious  one,  of  priceless  value  in  society,  and  not 
wanting  a  benediction  upon  it  in  our  elegant  literature, 
namely,  the  art  of  stripping  his  fellow-man  and  so  posturing 
him  as  to  make  every  movement  of  the  comical  wretch 
puppet-like,  constrained,  stiif ,  and  foolish.  He  could  present 
you  heroical  actions  in  that  fashion  ;  for  example  : 

"  A  long-shanked  trooper,  bearing  the  name  of  John 
Thomas  Drew,  was  crawling  along  under  fire  of  the  batteries. 
Out  pops  old  Nevil,  tries  to  get  the  man  on  his  back.  It 
won't  do.  N^evil  insists  that  it's  exactly  one  of  the  cases 
that  ought  to  be,  and  they  remain  arguing  a.bout  it  like  a 
pair  of  nine-pins  while  the  .Muscovites  are  at  work  with  the 
bowls.  Very  well.  Let  me  tell  you  my  story.  It's  jDcr- 
fectly  true,  I  give  you  my  word.  So  N^evil  tries  to  horse 
Drew,  and  Drew  proposes  to  horse  Nevil,  as  at  school.  Then 
Drew  offers  a  compromise.  He  would  much  rather  have 
crawled  on,  you  know,  and  allowed  the  shot  to  pass  over 
his  head ;  but  he's  a  Briton,  old  Nevil  the  same  ;  but  old 
iS'evirs  peculiarity  is  that,  as  you  are  aware,  he  hates  a 
compromise — won't  have  it — retro  Sathanas  !  and  Drew's 
proposal  to  take  his  arm  instead  of  being  carried  pickaback 
disgTists  old  ]^evil.  Still  it  won't  do  to  stop  where  they  are, 
like  the  cocoa-nut  and  the  pincushion  of  our  friends,  the 
gipsies,  on  the  downs :  so  they  take  arms  and  commence  the 
journey  home,  resembling  the  best  of  friends  on  the  evening 
of  a  holiday  in  our  native  clime — two  steps  to  the  right, 
half-a-dozen  to  the  left,  etcetera." 

Thus,  with  scarce  a  variation  from  the  facts,  with  but  a 


80  BE  NUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

flowery  cTiaplet  cast  on  a  truthful  narrative,  as  it  were, 
Captain  Baskelett  could  render  ludicrous  that  which  in 
other  quarters  had  obtained  honourable  mention,  l^evil  and 
Drew  being  knocked  down  bv  the  wind  of  a  ball  near  tlie 
battery,  "Confound  it!"  cries  Xevil,  jumping  on  his  feet, 
"it's  because  I  consented  to  a  compromise  !" — a  transparent 
piece  of  fiction  this,  but  so  in  haruKmy  with  the  character 
stripped  naked  for  us  that  it  is  accepted.  Imagine  JS'evil's 
love-affair  in  such  hands !  Recovering  from  a  fever,  Nevil 
sees  a  pretty  French  girl  in  a  gondola,  and  immediately 
thinks,  "  By  jingo,  I'm  marriageable."  He  hears  she  is 
engaged.  "  By  jingo,  she's  marriageable  too."  He  goes 
through  a  sum  in  addition,  and  the  total  is  a  couple;  so  he 
determines  on  a  marriage.  "Yon  can't  get  it  out  of  liis 
head  ;  he  must  be  married  instantly,  and  to  her,  because  she 
is  going  to  marry  somebody  else.  Sticks  to  her,  follows  her, 
will  have  her,  in  spite  of  her  father,  her  marquis,  her  brother, 
aunts,  cousins;  religion,  country,  and  the  young  woman  her- 
self. I  assure  you,  a  perfect  model  of  male  fidelity  !  She 
is  married.  He  is  on  her  track.  He  knows  his  time  will 
come;  he  has  only  to  be  handy.  You  see,  oldlSTevil  believes 
in  Providence,  is  perfectly  sure  he  will  one  day  hear  it  cr)' 
out,  '  Where's  Beauchamp  ?'  '  Here  I  am  !'  '  And  here's 
your  marquise!'  'I  knew  I  should  have  her  at  last,'  says 
IS^evil,  calm  as  Mont  Blanc  on  a  reduced  scale." 

The  secret  of  Captain  Baskelett's  art  would  seem  to  be  to 
show  the  automatic  human  creature  at  loggerheads  with  a 
necessity  that  winks  at  remarkable  pretentions,  while  con- 
demning it  perpetually  to  doll-like  action.  You  look  on  men 
from  your  own  elevation  as  upon  a  quantity  of  our  little 
wooden  images,  unto  whom  you  affix  puny  characteristics, 
under  restrictions  from  which  they  shall  not  escape,  though 
they  attempt  it  with  the  enterprising  vigoirr  of  an  extended 
leg,  or  a  pair  of  raised  arms,  or  a  head  awry,  or  a  trick  of 
jumping;  and  some  of  them  are  extraordinarily  addicted  to 
these  feats  ;  but  for  all  they  do  the  end  is  the  same,  for 
necessity  rules  that  exactly  so,  under  stress  of  activity  must 
the  doll  Nevil,  the  doll  Everard,  or  the  dolliest  of  dolls,  fair 
woman,  behave.  The  automatic  creature  is  subject  to  the 
laws  of  its  construction,  you  perceive.  It  can  this,  it  can 
that,  but  it  cannot  leap  out  of  its  mechanism.  One  definition 
of  the  art  is,  humour  made  easy,  and  that  may  be  why  Cecil 


CAPTAIN  BASKELETT.  81 

Baskelett,  indulged  in  it,  and  why  it  is  popular  with  those 
whose  humour  consists  of  a  readiness  to  laugh. 

The  fun  between  Cecil  Baskelett  and  Mr.  Romfrej  over 
the  doll  jN'evil  threatened  an  intimacy  and  community  of 
sentiment  that  alarmed  Rosamund  on  behalf  of  her  darling's 
material  prospects.  She  wrote  to  him,  entreating  him  to 
come  to  Steynham.  Nevil  Beauchamp  replied  to  her  both 
frankly  and  shrewdly :  "  I  shall  not  pretend  that  I  forgive 
my  uncle  Everard,  and  therefore  it  is  best  for  me  to  keep 
away.  Have  no  fear.  The  baron  likes  a  man  of  his  own 
tastes  :  they  may  laugh  together,  if  it  suits  them  ;  he  never 
could  be  guiltj'  of  treachery,  and  to  disinherit  me  would  be 
that.  If  I  were  to  become  his  open  enemy  to-morrow,  I 
should  look  on  the  estates  as  mine — unless  I  did  anything 
to  make  him  disrespect  me.  You  will  not  suppose  it  likely. 
I  foresee  I  shall  want  money.  As  for  Cecil,  I  give  him 
as  much  rope  as  he  cares  to  have.  I  know  very  well  Everard 
Bomfrey  will  see  where  the  point  of  likeness  between  them 
stops.     I  apply  for  a  ship  the  moment  1  land." 

To  test  Nevil's  judgement  of  his  uncle,  Bosamund  ventured 
ou  showing  this  letter  to  Mr.  Bomfrey.  He' read  it,  and  said 
nothing,  but  subsequently  asked,  from  time  to  time,  "  Has 
he  got  his  ship  yet?"  It  assured  her  that  Nevil  was  not 
wrong,  and  dispelled  her  notion  of  the  vulgar  imbroglio  of 
a  rich  uncle  and  two  thirsty  nephews.  She  was  hardly  less 
relieved  in  reflecting  that  he  could  read  men  so  soberly  and 
accurately.  The  desperation  of  the  youth  in  love  had 
rendered  her  one  little  bit  doubtful  of  the  orderliness  of  his 
wits.  After  this  she  smiled  on  Cecil's  assiduities.  Nevil 
obtained  his  appointment  to  a  ship  bound  for  the  coast  of 
Africa  to  spy  for  slavers.  He  called  on  his  uncle  in  London, 
and  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  hour's  visit  with  Bosa- 
mund ;  seemed  cured  of  his  passion,  devoid  of  rancour,  glad 
of  the  prospect  of  a  run  among  the  slaving  hulls.  He  and 
his  uncle  shook  hands  manfully,  at  the  full  outstretch  of 
their  arms,  in  a  way  so  like  them,  to  Bosamund's  thinking 
— that  is,  in  a  way  so  unlike  any  other  possible  couple  of 
men  so  situated — that  the  humour  of  the  sight  eclipsed  all 
the  pleasantries  of  Captain  Baskelett.  "  Good-bye,  sir," 
Nevil  said  heartily  ;  and  Everard  Bomfrey  was  not  behind- 
hand with  the  cordial  ring  of  his  "  Good-bye,  Nevil;"  and 
upon  that  they  separated.      Rosamund   would   have   been 


89 

willing  to  speak  to  her  beloved  of  his  false  Renee — tKe 
Frenchwoman,  she  termed  her,  i.e.,  genericallj  false,  needless 
to  name  ;  and  one  question  quivered  on  her  tongue's  tip  : 
"  How,  when  she  had  promised  to  fly  with  you,  how  could 
she  the  very  next  day  step  to  the  altar  with  him  now  her 
husband  ?  "  And,  if  she  had  spoken  it,  she  would  have 
added,  "  Your  uncle  could  not  have  set  his  -face  against  you, 
had  you  brought  her  to  England."  She  felt  strongly  the 
mastery  Nevil  Beauchamp  could  exercise  even  over  his  uncle 
Everard.  But  when  he  was  gone,  unquestioned,  meiely 
caressed,  it  came  to  her  mind  that  he  had  all  through  insisted 
on  his  possession  of  this  particular  power,  and  she  accused 
herself  of  having  wantonly  helped  to  ruin  his  hope — a 
matter  to  be  rejoiced  at  in  the  abstract ;  but  what  suffering 
she  had  inflicted  on  him  !  To  quiet  her  heart,  she  persuaded 
herself  that  for  the  future  she  would  never  fail  to  believe  in 
him  and  second  him  blindly,  as  true  love  should ;  and  con- 
templating one  so  brave,  far-sighted,  and  self-assured,  her 
determination  seemed  to  impose  the  lightest  of  tasks. 

Practically  humane  though  he  was,  and  especially  toward 
cattle  and  all  kinds  of  beasts,  Mr.  Romfrey  entertained  no 
profound  fellow-feeling  for  the  negro,  and,  except  as  the 
representative  of  a  certain  amount  of  working  power  com- 
monly requiring  the  whip  to  wir.d  it  up,  he  inclined  to 
despise  that  black  spot  in  the  creation,  with  which  our 
civilization  should  never  have  had  anything  to  do.  So  he 
pronounced  his  mind,  and  the  long  habit  of  listening  io 
oracles  might  grow  us  ears  to  hear  and  discover  a  meaninir 
in  it,  Nevil's  captures  and  releases  of  the  grinning  freights 
amused  him  for  awhile.  He  compared  them  to  strings  of 
bananas,  and  presently  put  the  vision  of  the  whole  business 
aside  by  talking  of  Nevil's  banana-wreath.  He  desired  to 
have  Nevil  out  of  it.  He  and  Cecil  handed  Nevil  in  his 
banana-wreath  about  to  their  friends.  Nevil,  in  his  banana - 
wreath,  was  set  preaching  '  humanitomtity.'  At  any  rate, 
they  contrived  to  keep  the  remembrance  of  Nevil  Beauchamp 
alive  during  the  period  of  his  disappearance  from  the  world, 
and  in  so  doing  they  did  him  a  service. 

There  is  a  pause  between  the  descent  of  a  diver  and  his 
return  to  the  surface,  when  those  who  would  not  have  him 
forgotten  by  the  better  world  above  him  do  rightly  to  relate 


CAPTAIN  BASKELETT.  Od 

anecdotes   of  him,  if  they  can,  and   to  provoke  laughter  at 

him.  Tho  encouragement  of  the  humane  sense  of  superiority 
oyer  an  object  of  interest,  which  laughter  gives,  is  good  for 
the  object ;  and  besides,  if  you  begin  to  tell  sly  stories  of 
one  in  the  deeps  who  is  holding  his  breath  to  fetch  a  pearl 
or  two  for  you  all,  you  divert  a  particular  sympathetic 
oppression  of  the  chest,  that  the  extremely  sensitive  are  apt 
to  suffer  from,  and  you  dispose  the  larger  number  to  keep  in 
mind  a  person  they  no  longer  see.  Otherwise  it  is  likely 
that  he  will,  very  shortly  after  he  has  made  his  plunge, 
fatigue  the  contemplative  brains  above,  and  be  shuffled  off 
them,  even  as  great  ocean  smoothes  away  the  dear  vanished 
man's  immediate  circle  of  foam,  and  rapidly  confounds  the 
rippling  memory  of  him  with  its  other  agitations.  And  in 
such  a  case  the  ap23arition  of  his  head  upon  our  common 
level  once  more  will  almost  certainly  cause  a  disagreeable 
shock  ;  nor  is  it  improbable  that  his  first  natural  snorts  in 
his  native  element,  though  they  be  simply  to  obtain  his 
share  of  the  breath  of  life,  will  draw  down  on  him  condem- 
nation for  eccentric  behaviour  and  unmannerly ;  and  this  in 
spite  of  the  jewel  he  brings,  unless  it  be  an  exceedingly 
splendid  one.  The  reason  is,  that  our  brave  world  cannot 
pardon  a  breach  of  continuity  for  any  petty  bribe. 

Thus  it  chanced,  owing  to  the  prolonged  efforts  of  Mr. 
Romfrey  and  Cecil  Baskelett  to  get  fun  out  of  him,  at  the 
cost  of  considerable  inventiveness,  that  the  electoral  Address 
of  the  candidate,  signing  himself  ''  R.  C.  S.  Nevil  Beau- 
champ,"  to  the  borough  of  Bevisham,  did  not  issue  from  an 
altogether  unremembered  man. 

He  had  been  cruising  in  the  Mediterranean,  commanding 
the  Ariadne,  the  smartest  corvette  in  the  service.  He  had, 
it  was  widely  made  known,  met  his  marquise  in  Palermo. 
It  was  presumed  that  he  was  dancing  the  round  with  her 
still,  when  this  amazing  Address  appeared  on  Bevisham's 
walls,  in  anticipation  of  the  general  Election,  The  Address, 
moreover,  was  ultra-Radical :  museums  to  be  opened  on 
Sundays  ;  ominous  references  to  the  Land  question,  &c. ;  no 
smooth  passing  mention  of  Reform,  such  as  the  Liberal, 
become  stately,  adopts  in  speaking  of  that  property  of  his, 
but  swinging  blows  on  the  heads  of  many  a  denounced 
iniquity. 

g2 


84 

Cecil  forwarded  the  Address  to  Everard  Romfrey  with- 
out comment. 

Next  day  the  following  letter,  dated  from  Itchincope,  the 
honse  of  Mr.  Grancey  Lespel,  on  the  borders  of  Bevisham, 
arrived  at  Steynham  : — 

"  I  have  dispatched  you  the  proclamation,  folded  neatly. 
The  electors  of  Bevisham  are  summoned,  like  a  town  at  the 
sword's  point,  to  yield  him  their  votes.  Proclamation  is 
the  word.  I  am  your  born  representative !  I  have  com- 
pleted my  political  education  on  salt  water,  and  I  tackle 
you  on  the  Land  question.  I  am  the  heir  of  your  votes, 
gentlemen  ! — I  forgot,  and  I  apologize  ;  he  calls  them  fel- 
low-men. Fraternal,  and  not  so  risky.  Here  at  Lespel's 
we  read  the  thing  with  shouts.  It  hangs  in  the  smoking- 
room.  We  throw  open  the  cura9oa  to  the  intelligence  and 
industry  of  the  assembled  guests  ;  we  carry  the  right  of  the 
multitude  to  our  host's  cigars  by  a  majority.  C'est  un 
farceur  que  notre  bon  petit  cousin.  Lespel  says  it  is  sailor- 
like to  do  something  of  this  sort  after  a  cruise.  Nevil's 
Radicalism  would  have  been  clever  anywhere  out  of 
Bevisham.  Of  all  boroughs !  Grancey  Lespel  knows  it. 
He  and  his  family  were  Bevisham's  Whig  M.P.'s  before  the 
day  of  Manchester.  In  Bevisham  an  election  is  an  arrange- 
ment made  by  Providence  to  square  the  accounts  of  the 
voters,  and  settle  arrears.  They  reckon  up  the  health  of 
their  two  members  and  the  chances  of  an  appeal  to  the 
country  when  they  fix  the  rents  and  leases.  You  have  them 
pointed  out  to  you  in  the  street,  with  their  figures  attached 
to  them  like  titles.  Mr.  Tomkins,  the  twenty- pound  man ; 
an  elector  of  uncommon  purity.  I  saw  the  ruffian  yester- 
day. He  has  an  extra  breadth  to  his  hat.  He  has  never 
been  known  to  listen  to  a  member  under  £20,  and  is  re- 
spected enormously — like  the  lady  of  the  mythology,  who 
was  an  intolerable  Tartar  of  virtue,  because  her  price  was 
nothing  less  than  a  god,  and  money  down.  Nevil  will  have 
to  come  down  on  Bevisham  in  the  Jupiter  style.  Bevisham 
is  downright  the  dearest  of  boroughs — 'vaulting-boards,'  as 
Stukely  Culbrett  calls  them — in  the  kingdom.  I  assume 
we  still  say  '  kingdom.' 

"  He  dashed  into  the  Radical  trap  exactly  two  hours  after 
landing.  I  believe  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  Halketts  at 
Mount    Lanrels,      A    notorious    old    rascal    revolutionist 


CAPTMN  BASKELBTT.    ''  "^  '^J^^i'^  X    Jg5 

retired  from  his  licenced  basiness  of  slanghterer — one  of 
your  gratis  doctors — met  him  on  the  high  road,  and  told 
him  he  was  the  man.  Up  went  Nevil's  enthusiasm  like  a, 
bottle  rid  of  the  cork.  You  will  see  a  great  deal  about  faith 
in  the  proclamation ;  '  faith  in  the  future,'  and  '  my  faith  in 
you.'  When  you  become  a  Radical  you  have  faith  in  any 
quantity,  just  as  an  alderman  gets  turtle  soup.  It  is  your 
badge,  like  a  livery-servant's  cockade  or  a  corporal's  sleeve- 
stripes — your  badge  and  your  bellyful.  Calculations  were 
gone  through  at  the  Liberal  newspaper-office,  old  Nevil 
adding  up  hard,  and  he  was  informed  that  he  was  elected 
by  sometking  like  a  topping  eight  or  nine  hundred  and  some 
fractions.  I  am  sure  that  a  fellow  who  can  let  himself  be 
gulled  by  a  pile  of  figures  trumped  up  in  a  Radical  news- 
paper-office must  have  great  faith  in  the  fractions.  Out 
came  Nevil's  proclamation. 

"  I  have  not  met  him,  and  I  would  rather  not.  I  shall 
not  pretend  to  offer  you  advice,  for  T  have  the  habit  of 
thinking  your  judgement  can  stand  by  itself.  We  shall 
all  find  this  affair  a  nuisance.  Nevil  will  pay  through  the 
nose.  We  shall  have  the  ridicule  spattered  on  the  family. 
It  would  be  a  safer  thing  for  him  to  invest  his  money  on 
the  Turf,  and  I  shall  advise  his  doing  it  if  I  come  across 
him. 

"  Perhaps  the  best  course  would  be  to  telegraph  for  the 
marquise  !" 

This  was  from  Cecil  Baskelett.     He  added  a  postscript — 

"  Seriously,  the  '  mad  commander  '  has  not  an  ace  of  a 
chance.  Grancey  and  I  saw  some  Working  Men  (you  have 
to  write  them  in  capitals,  king  and  queen  small)  ;  they  were 
reading  the  Address  on  a  board  carried  by  a  red-nosed  man, 
and  shrugging.     They  are  not  such  fools. 

"  By  the  way,  I  am  informed  Shrapnel  has  a  young  female 
relative  living  with  him,  said  to  be  a  sparkler.  I  bet  you, 
sir,  she  is  not  a  Radical.     Do  you  take  me  ?" 

Rosamund  Culling  drove  to  the  railway  station  on  her  way 
to  Bevisham  within  an  hour  after  Mr.  Romfrey's  eyebrows 
had  made  acute  play  over  this  communication. 


86  BBAUCHAMP'S  CAREBB. 

CHAPTER  Xn. 

AIT  rNTETtVIEW  WITH  THE  INFAMOUS  DR.  SHRAPNEL. 

In  the  High  street  of  the  ancient  and  famous  town  and 
port  of  Bevisham,  Rosamund  met  the  militaiy  governor  of  a 
neighbouring  fortress,  General  Sherwin,  once  colonel  of  her 
husband's  regiment  in  India;  and  bj  him,  as  it  happened, 
she  was  assisted  in  finding  the  whereabout  of  the  young 
Liberal  candidate,  without  the  degrading  recourse  of  an  ap- 
plication at  the  newspaper-office  of  his  party.  The  General 
was  leisurely  walking  to  a  place  of  appointment  to  fetch  his 
daughter  home  from  a  visit  to  an  old  scliool-friend,  a  Miss 
Jenny  Denham,  no  other  than  a  ward,  or  a  niece,  or  an  adop- 
tion of  Dr.  Shrapnel's  :  "  A  nice  girl ;  a  great  favourite  of 
mine,"  the  general  said.  Shrapnel  he  knew  by  reputation 
only  as  a  wrong-headed  politician ;  but  he  spoke  of  Miss 
Denham  pleasantly  two  or  three  times,  praising  her  accom- 
plishments and  her  winning  manners.  His  heai-er  suspected 
that  it  might  be  done  to  dissociate  the  idea  of  her  from  the 
ruffling  agitator.  "  Is  she  pretty  ?"  was  a  question  that 
sprang  from  Rosamund's  intimate  reflections.  The  answer 
was,  "  Yes." 

"  Very  pretty  ?" 

"I  think  very  pretty,"  said  the  General. 

"  Captivatingly  ?" 

"  Clara  thinks  she  is  perfect ;  she  is  tall  and  slim,  and 
dresses  well.  The  girls  were  with  a  French  Madam  in  Paris. 
But,  if  you  are  interested  about  her,  you  can  come  on  with 
me,  and  we  shall  meet  them  somewhere  near  the  head  of  the 
street.  I  don't,"  the  general  hesitated  and  hummed — "  I 
don't  call  at  Shrapnel's." 

"  I  have  never  heard  her  name  before  to-day,"  said  Rosa- 
mund. 

"  Exactly,"  said  the  General,  crowing  at  the  aimlessness 
of  a  woman's  curiosity. 

The  young  ladies  were  seen  approaching,  and  Rosamund 
had  to  ask  herself  whether  the  first  sight  of  a  person  like 
Miss  Denham  would  be  of  a  kind  to  exercise  a  lively  influence 
over  the  political  and  other  sentiments  of  a  dreamy  sailor 


INTERVIEW  WITH  DR.  SHRAPNEL.  87 

jnst  released  from  ship-service.  In  an  ordinary  case  slie 
would  have  said  no,  for  ISTevil  enjoyed  a  range  of  society 
where  faces  charming  as  Miss  Denham's  were  plentiful  as 
roses  in  the  rose-garden.  But,  supposing  him  free  of  his 
bondage  to  the  foreign  woman,  there  was,  she  thought  and 
feared,  a  possibility  that  a  girl  of  this  description  might 
capture  a  young  man's  vacant  heart  sighing  for  a  new  mis- 
tress. And  if  so,  further  observation  assured  her  Miss  Den- 
ham  was  likely  to  be  dangerous  far  more  than  professedly' 
attractive  persons,  enchantresses  and  the  rest.  Rosamund 
watchfully  gathered  all  the  superficial  indications  which 
incite  women  to  judge  of  character  profoundly.  This  new 
object  of  alarm  was,  as  the  general  had  said  of  her,  tall  and 
slim,  a  friend  of  neatness,  plainly  dressed,  but  exquisitely  fitted, 
in  the  manner  of  Frenchwomen.  She  spoke  very  readily, 
not  too  much,  and  had  the  rare  gift  of  being  able  to  speak 
fluently  with  a  smile  on  the  mouth.  Vulgar  archness  imitates 
it.  She  won  and  retained  the  eyes  of  her  hearer  sympatheti- 
cally, it  seemed.  Rosamund  thought  her  as  little  conscious 
as  a  woman  could  be.  She  coloured  at  times  quickly,  but 
without  confusion.  When  that  name,  the  key  of  Rosamund's 
meditations,  chanced  to  be  mentioned,  a  flush  swept  over 
Miss  Denham's  face.  The  candoui'  of  it  was  unchanged  as 
she  gazed  at  Rosamund,  with  a  look  that  asked,  "  Do  you 
know  him  ?" 

Rosamund  said,  "  I  am  an  old  friend  of  his." 

"  He  is  here  now,  in  this  town." 

"  I  wish  to  see  him  very  much." 

General  Sherwin  interposed  :  "  We  won't  talk  about 
political  characters  just  for  the  present." 

"  I  wish  you  knew  him,  papa,  and  would  advise  him,"  his 
daughter  said. 

The  General  nodded  hastily.     "  By-and-by,  by-and-by." 

They  had  in  fact  taken  seats  at  a  table  of  mutton  pies  in 
a  pastrycook's  shop,  where  dashing  military  men  were 
restrained  solely  by  their  presence  from  a  too  noisy  display 
of  fascinations  before  the  fashionable  waiting- women. 

Rosamund  looked  at  Miss  Denham.  As  soon  as  they  were 
in  the  street  the  latter  said,  "  If  you  will  be  good  enough  tc 
come  with  me,  madam  ?  .   .   ," 

Rosamund  bowed,  thankful  to  have  been  comprehended. 
The  two  yotuig  ladies  kissed  cheeks  and  parted.     Genera 


88  BEAUCi  amp's  career. 

Sherwin  rnisecl  his  hat,  and  was  astonislied  to  see  Mrs. 
Culling  join  Miss  Denham  in  accepting  the  salute,  for  they 
had  not  hcv.m  introduced,  and  what  could  they  have  in 
common  ?     It  was  another  of  the  oddities  of  female  nature. 

"  My  name  is  Mrs.  Culling,  and  I  will  tell  you  how  it  is 
that  I  am  interested  in  Captain  Beauchamp,"  Rosamund 
addressed  her  companion.  "  I  am  his  uncle's  housekeeper. 
I  have  known  him  and  loved  him  since  he  was  a  boy.  I  am 
in  great  fear  that  he  is  acting  rashly." 

"  You  honour  me,  madam,  by  speaking  to  me  so  frankly," 
Miss  Denhain  answered. 

"  He  is  quite  bent  upon  this  Election  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam.  I  am  not,  as  you  can  suppose,  in  his  con- 
fidence, but  I  hear  of  him  from  Dr.  Shrapnel." 

"Your  uncle?" 

"  I  call  him  uncle  :  he  is  my  guardian,  madam." 

It  is  perhaps  excusable  that  this  communication  did  not 
cause  the  doctor  to  shine  with  added  lustre  in  Rosamund's 
thoughts,  or  ennoble  the  young  lady. 

"  You  are  not  relatives,  then  ?"  she  said. 

"  No,  unless  love  can  make  ns  so." 

"  Xot  blood-relatives  ?" 

"  No." 

"  1  s  he  not  very  .  .  .  extreme  ?" 

"He  is  very  sincere." 

"  I  presume  you  are  a  politician  ?" 

Miss  Denham  smiled.  "  Could  yon  pardon  me,  madam,  if 
I  said  that  I  was:  " 

The  counterquestion  was  a  fair  retort  enfolding  a  gentler 
irony.  Rosamund  felt  that  she  had  to  do  with  wits  as  well 
as  with  vivid  feminine  intuitions  in  the  person  of  this  Miss 
Denham. 

She  said,  "  I  really  am  of  opinion  that  our  sex  might 
abstain  from  politics." 

"  We  find  it  difficult  to  do  justice  to  both  parties,"  Miss 
Denham  followed.  "  It  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  clanship  with 
women  ;  hardly  even  that." 

Rosamund  was  inattentive  to  the  conversational  slipshod, 
and  launched  one  of  the  heavy  affirmatives  which  are  in 
dialogue  full  stops.  She  could  not  have  said  why  she  was 
sensible  of  anger,  but  the  sentiment  of  anger,  or  spite  (if 
that  be  a  lessei-  degree  of  the  same  affliction),  became  stirred 


nnERVIEW  WITH  DE.  SHRAPNEL.  89 

in  her  bosom  when  she  listened  to  the  ward  of  Dr.  Shrapnel. 
A  silly  pretty  pnss  of  a  gii4  would  not  have  excited  it,  nor 
an  avowed  blood-relative  of  the  demagogue, 

Nevil's  hotel  was  pointed  out  to  Rosamund,  and  she  left 
her  card  there.  He  had  been  absent  since  eight  in  the 
morning.  There  was  the  probability  that  he  might  be  at 
Dr.  Shrapnel's,  so  Rosamund  walked  on. 

"  Captain  Beauchamp  gives  himself  no  rest,"  Miss  Den- 
ham  said. 

"  Oh  !  1  know  him,  when  once  his  mind  is  set  on  any- 
thing," said  Rosamund.  "Is  it  not  too  early  to  begin  to — 
canvass,  I  think,  is  the  woi-d  ?" 

*'  He  is  studying  whatever  the  town  can  teach  him  of  its 
wants  ;  that  is,  how  he  may  serve  it." 

"  Indeed  !    But  if  the  town  will  not  have  him  to  serve  it?" 

"  He  imagines  that  he  cannot  do  better,  until  that  has 
been  decided,  than  to  fit  himself  for  the  post." 

"  Acting  upon  your  advice  ?  I  mean,  of  course,  your 
uncle's  ;  that  is,  Dr.  Shrapnel's." 

"  Dr.  Shrapnel  thinks  it  will  not  be  loss  of  time  for  Cap- 
tain Beauchamp  to  grow  familiar  with  the  place,  and  observe 
as  well  as  read." 

"  It  sounds  almost  as  if  Captain  Beauchamp  had  sub- 
mitted to  be  Dr.  Shrapnel's  pupil," 

"  It  is  natural,  madam,  that  Dr.  Shrapnel  should  know 
more  of  political  ways  at  present  than  Captain  Beauchamp." 

"  To  Captain  Beauchamp's  friends  and  relatives  it  appears 
very  strange  that  he  should  have  decided  to  contest  this 
election  so  suddenly.  May  I  inquire  whether  he  and  Dr. 
Shrapnel  are  old  acquaintances  ?" 

"  ^o,  madam,  they  are  not.  They  had  never  met  before 
Captain  Beauchamp  landed,  the  other  day." 

"  I  am  surprised,  I  confess.  I  cannot  understand  the 
nature  of  an  influence  that  induces  him  to  abandon  a  profes- 
sion he  loves  and  shines  in,  for  politics,  at  a  moment's 
notice." 

Miss  Denham  was  silent,  and  then  said : 

"  I  will  tell  you,  madam,  how  it  occurred,  as  far  as  cir- 
cumstances explain  it.  Dr.  Shrapnel  is  accustomed  to  give 
a  Httle  country  feast  to  the  children  I  teach,  and  their 
parents  if  they  choose  to  come,  and  they  generally  do.  They 
are  driven  to  Northeden  Heath,  where  we  set  up  a  booth  for 


90  BEAUCHAMP'S  CARE3B. 

them,  and  try  with  cakes  and  tea  and  games  to  make  them 
spend  one  of  theii  happy  afternoons  and  evenings.  We  suc- 
ceed, 1  know,  for  the  little  creatures  talk  of  it  and  look  for- 
ward to  the  day.  When  they  are  at  their  last  romp,  Dr. 
Shrapnel  speaks  to  the  parents." 

"Can  he  obtain  a  hearing ?"  Rosamund  asked. 

"  He  has  not  so  very  large  a  crowd  to  address,  madam, 
and  he  is  much  beloved  by  those  that  come." 

"  He  speaks  to  them  of  politics  on  those  occasions  ?" 

"  Adouci  a  leur  intention.  It  is  not  a  political  speech,  but 
Dr.  Shrapnel  thinks  that,  in  a  so-called  free  country  seeking 
to  be  really  free,  men  of  the  lowest  class  should  be  educated 
in  forming  a  political  judgement." 

"  And  women  too  ?" 

"  And  women,  yes.  Indeed,  madam,  we  notice  that  the 
women  listen  very  creditably." 

"  They  can  put  on  the  air." 

"  I  am  afraid,  not  more  than  the  men  do.  To  get  them  to 
listen  is  something.  They  suffer  like  the  men,  and  must 
depend  on  their  intelligence  to  win  their  way  out  of  it." 

Rosamund's  meditation  was  exclamatory :  What  can  be 
the  age  of  this  pretentious  girl  ? 

-^  An  af  tei'thought  turned  her  more  conciliatorily  toward  the 
person,  but  less  to  the  subject.  She  was  sure  that  she  was 
lending  ear  to  the  echo  of  the  dangerous  doctor,  and  rather 
pitied  Miss  Denham  for  awhile,  reflecting  that  a  young 
woman  stuffed  with  such  ideas  would  find  it  hard  to  get  a 
husband.     Mention  of  Nevil  revived  her  feeling  of  hostility. 

"  We  had  seen  a  gentleman  standing  near  and  listening 
attentively,"  Miss  Denham  resumed,  "  and  when  Dr.  Shrap- 
nel concluded  a  card  was  handed  to  him.  He  read  it  and 
gave  it  to  me,  and  said,  '  You  know  that  name.'  It  was  a 
name  we  had  often  talked  about  during  the  war.  He  went 
to  Captain  Beauchamp  and  shook  his  hand.  He  does  not 
pay  many  compliments,  and  he  does  not  like  to  receive  them, 
but  it  was  impossible  for  him  not  to  be  moved  by  Captain 
Beauchamp's  warmth  in  thanking  him  for  the  words  he  had 
spoken.  I  saw  that  Dr.  Shrapnel  became  interested  in 
Captain  Beauchamp  the  longer  they  conversed.  We  walked 
home  together.  Captain  Beauchamp  supped  with  us.  I  left 
them  at  half-past  eleven  at  night,  and  in  the  morning  I 
found  them  walking  in  the  garden.     They  had  not  gone  to 


INTERVIEW  WITH  DR.  SHRAPNEL.  91 

bed  at  all.  Captain  Beauchamp  has  remained  in  Bevisham 
ever  since.  He  soon  came  to  the  decision  to  be  a  candidate 
for  the  borough." 

Eosamnnd  checked  her  lips  from  nttering :  To  be  a  pup- 
pet of  Dr.  Shrapnel's  ! 

She  remarked,  "  He  is  very  eloqnent — Dr.  Shrapnel  ?" 

^liss  Denham  held  some  debate  with  herself  upon  the 
term. 

'•  Perhaps  it  is  not  eloquence ;  he  often  .  .  .  no,  he  is  not 
an  orator." 

Rosamund  suggested  that  he  was  persuasive,  possibly. 

Again  the  young  lady  deliberately  weighed  the  word,  as 
though  the  nicest  measure  of  her  uncle  or  adopter's  quality 
in  this  or  that  direction  were  in  requisition  and  of  import- 
ance— an  instance  of  a  want  of  delicacy  of  perception  Rosa- 
mund was  not  sorry  to  detect.  For  good-looking,  refined- 
looking,  quick-witted  girls  can  be  grown ;  but  the  nimble 
sense  of  fitness,  ineifable  lightning-footed  tact,  comes  of  race 
and  breeding,  and  she  was  sure  Nevil  was  a  man  soon  to 
feel  the  absence  of  that. 

"  Dr.  Sbi-apnel  is  persuasive  to  those  who  go  partly  with 
him,  or  whose  condition  of  mind  calls  on  him  for  great 
patience,"  Miss  Denham  said  at  last. 

"I  am  only  trying  to  comprehend  how  it  was  that  he 
should  so  rapidly  have  won  Captain  Beauchamp  to  his 
views,"  Rosamund  explained;  and  the  young  lady  did  not 
reply. 

Dr.  Shrapnel's  house  was  about  a  mile  beyond  the  town, 
on  a  common  of  thorn  and  gorse,  through  which  the  fir- 
bordered  highway  ran.  A  fence  waist-high  enclosed  its  plot 
of  meadow  "and  garden,  so  that  the  doctor,  while  protecting 
his  own,  might  see  and  be  seen  of  the  world,  as  was  the  case 
when  Rosamund  approached.  He  was  pacing  at  long  slow 
strides  along  the  gravel  walk,  with  his  head  bent  and  bare, 
and  his  hands  behind  his  back,  accompanied  by  a  gentleman 
who  could  be  no  other  than  Nevil,  Rosamund  presumed  to 
think ;  but  drawing  nearer  she  found  she  was  mistaken, 

"  That  is  not  Captain  Beauchamp's  figure,"  she  said. 

"  No,  it  is  not  he,"  said  Miss  Denham. 

Rosamund  saw  that  her  companion  was  pale.  She  warmed 
to  her  at  once ;  by  no  means  on  account  of  the  pallor  in 
itself. 


92  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  I  have  walked  too  fast  for  you,  I  fear.'* 

"  Oil  no  ;  I  am  accused  of  being  a  fast  walker." 

Rosamund  was  unwilling  to  pass  through  the  demagogue's 
gate.  On  second  thoughts,  she  reflected  that  she  could 
hardly  stipulate  to  have  news  of  Nevil  tossed  to  her  over 
the  spikes,  and  she  entered. 

While  receiving  Dr.  Shrapnel's  welcome  to  a  friend  of 
Captain  Beauchamp,  she  observed  the  greeting  between  Miss 
Denham  and  the  younger  gentleman.  It  reassured  her. 
They  met  like  two  that  have  a  secret. 

The  dreaded  doctor  was  an  immoderately  tall  man,  lean 
and  wiry,  carelessly  clad  in  a  long  loose  coat  of  no  colour, 
loose  trowsers,  and  huge  shoes. 

He  stooped  from  his  height  to  speak,  or  rather  swing  the 
stiff  upper  half  of  his  body  down  to  his  hearer's  le^^l  ;\m\ 
back  again,  like  a  ship's  mast  on  a  billowy  sea.  He  was 
neither  rough  nor  abrupt,  nor  did  he  roar  bull-mouthed ly  as 
demagogues  are  expected  to  do,  though  his  voice  was  deep. 
He  was  actually,  after  his  fashion,  courteous,  it  could  be 
said  of  him,  except  that  his  mind  was  too  visibly  possessed 
by  distant  matters  for  Rosamund's  taste,  she  being  accus- 
tomed to  drawing-room  and  hunting  and  military  gentlemen, 
who  can  be  all  in  the  wonls  they  ntter.  Nevertheless  he 
came  out  of  his  lizard-like  look  with  the  down-dropped  eye- 
lids quick  at  a  resumption  of  the  diah)gue;  sometimes  ges- 
turing, sweeping  his  arm  round.  A  stubborn  tuft  of  iron- 
grey  hair  fell  across  his  forehead,  and  it  was  apparently  one 
of  his  life's  labours  to  get  it  to  lie  amid  the  mass,  for  his 
hand  rarely  ceased  to  be  in  motion  without  an  impulsive 
stroke  at  the  refi-actory  forelock.  He  peered  thiough  his 
eyelashes  ordinarily,  but  from  no  infirmity  of  sight.  The 
truth  was  that  the  man's  nature  counteracted  his  spirit's 
intenser  eagerness  and  restlessness  by  alternating  a  state  of 
repose  that  resembled  dormancy,  and  so  preserved  him. 
Rosamund  was  obliged  to  give  him  credit  for.  straightfor- 
ward eyes  when  they  did  look  out  and  flash.  Their  fllmy 
blue,  half  overflown  with  grey  by  age,  was  poignant  while 
the  fire  in  them  lasted.  Her  antipathy  attributed  some- 
thing electrical  to  the  light  they  shot. 

Dr.  Shrapnel's  account  of  Nevil  stated  him  to  have  gone  to 
call  on  Colonel  Halkett,  a  new  resident  at  Mount  Laurels, 
on  the  Otley  river.     He  oft'ered  the  welcome  of  his  house  to 


INTERVIEW  WITH  DR.  SHRAPNEL.  93 

the  lady  who  was  Captain  Beauchamp's  friend,  saying,  with 
extraordinary  fatuity  (so  it  sonnded  in  Rosamund's  ears), 
that  Captain  Beauchamp  wonld  certainly  not  let  an  evening- 
pass  without  coming  to  him.  Rosamund  suggested  that  he 
might  stay  late  at  Mount  Laurels. 

"  Then  he  will  arrive  here  after  nightfall,"  said  the 
doctor.     "  A  bed  is  at  your  service,  ma'am." 

The  offer  was  declined.  "  I  should  like  to  have  seen  him 
to-day ;  but  he  will  be  home  shortly." 

"He  will  not  quit  Bevisham  till  this  Election's  decided 
tmless  to  hunt  a  stray  borough  vote,  ma'am." 

"  He  goes  to  Mount  Laurels." 

"For  that  purpose." 

"  I  do  not  think  he  will  persuade  Colonel  Halkett  to  vote 
in  th%Radical  interest." 

"That  is  the  probability  with  a  landed  proprietor,  ma'am. 
We  must  knock,  whether  the  door  opens  or  not.  Like,"  the 
doctor  laughed  to  himself  up  aloft,  "  like  a  watchman  in  the 
night  to  say  that  he  smells  smoke  on  the  premises." 

"  Surely  we  may  expect  Captain  Beauchamp  to  consult  his 
family  about  so  serious  a  step  as  this  he  is  taking,"  Rosa- 
mund said,  with  an  effort  to  be  civil. 

"  Why  should  he  ?"  asked  the  impending  doctor. 

His  head  continued  in  the  interrogative  position  when  it 
had  resumed  its  elevation.  The  challenge  for  a  definite 
reply  to  so  outrageous  a  question  irritated  Rosamund's 
nerves,  and,  loth  though  she  was  to  admit  him  to  the  sub- 
ject, she  could  not  forbear  from  saying,  "^Yhy  ?  Surely  his 
family  have  the  first  claim  on  him  !" 

"  Surely  not,  ma'am.  There  is  no  first  claim.  A  man's 
wife  and  children  have  a  claim  on  him  for  bread.  A  man's 
parents  have  a  claim  on  him  for  obedience  while  he  is  a 
child.  A  man's  uncles,  aunts,  and  cousins  have  no  claim  on 
him  at  all,  except  for  help  in  necessity,  which  he  can  grant 
and  they  require.  None — wife,  children,  parents,  relatives — 
none  have  a  claim  to  bar  his  judgement  and  his  actions. 
Sound  the  conscience,  and  sink  the  family !  With  a  clear 
conscience,  it  is  best  to  leave  the  family  to  its  own  debates. 
No  man  evei  did  brave  work  who  held  counsel  witli  his 
family.  The  family  view  of  a  man's  fit  conduct  is  the  weak 
point  of  the  country.  It  is  no  other  view  than,  '  Bettei-  thy 
condition  for  our  sakes.'     Ha !     In  this  way  we  breed  sheep 


94  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEE. 

fatten  oxen :  men  are  dying  off.  Resolution  taken,  consult 
the  family  means — waste  your  time !  Those  who  go  to  it 
want  an  excuse  for  altering  their  minds.  The  family  view 
is  everlastingly  the  shopkeeper's !  Purse,  pence,  ease, 
increase  of  worldly  goods,  personal  importance — the  round, 
the  English  round !  Dare  do  that,  and  you  forfeit  your 
share  of  Port  wine  in  this  world ;  you  won't  be  dubbed  with 
a  title  ;  you'll  be  fingered  at !  Lord,  Lord  !  is  it  the  region 
inside  a  man,  or  out,  that  gives  him  peace  ?  Out,  they  say  ; 
for  they  have  lost  faith  in  the  existence  of  an  inner.  They 
haven't  it.  Air- sucker,  blood-pump,  cooking  machinery, 
and  a  battery  of  trained  instincts,  .aptitudes,  fill  up  their 
vacuum.  I  repeat,  ma'am,  why  should  young  Captain  Beau- 
champ  spend  an  hour  consulting  his  family  ?  They  won't 
approve  him;  he  knows  it.  They  may  annoy  him;  and 
wliat  is  the  gain  of  that  ?  They  can't  move  him  ;  on  that  I 
let  my  right  hand  burn.  So  it  would  be  useless  on  both 
sides.  He  thinks  so.  So  do  I.  He  is  one  of  the  men  to 
serve  his  country  on  the  best  field  we  can  choose  for  him. 
In  a  ship's  cabin  he  is  thrown  away.  Ay,  ay,  War,  and  he 
may  go  aboard.  But  now  we  must  have  him  ashore.  Too 
fev,-  of  such  as  he  I  " 

"  It  is  matter  of  opinion,"  said  Rosamund,  very  tightly 
compressed  ;  scarcely  knowing  what  she  said. 

How  strange,  besides  hateful,  it  was  to  her  to  hear  her 
darling  spoken  of  by  a  stranger  who  not  only  pretended  to 
appreciate  but  to  possess  him  !  A  stranger,  a  man  of  evil, 
with  monstrous  ideas  !  A  terribly  strong  inexhaustible  man 
of  a  magical  power  too  ;  or  would  he  otherwise  have  won 
such  a  mastery  over  Nevil  ? 

Of  course  she  could  have  shot  a  rejoinder  to  confute  him 
with  all  the  force  of  her  indignation,  save  that  the  words 
were  tumbling  about  in  her  head  like  a  Avorld  in  disruption, 
which  made  her  feel  a  weakness  at  the  same  time  that  she 
gloated  on  her  capacity,  as  though  she  had  an  enormous 
army,  quite  overwhelming  if  it  could  but  be  got  to  move  in 
advance.  This  very  common  condition  of  the  silent-stricken, 
unused  in  dialectics,  heightened  Rosamund's  disgust  by 
causing  her  to  suppose  that  I^evil  had  been  similarly 
silenced,  in  his  case  vanquished,  captured,  ruined  ;  and  he 
dwindled  in  her  estimation  for  a  moment  or  two.  She  felt 
that   among  a  sisterhood  of  gossips  she  would  soon  have 


INTERVIEW  WITH  DE.  SHRAFfTEL.  95 

found  her  voice,  and  struck  down  the  demagogue's  audacious 
sophisms  :  not  that  thej  affected  her  in  the  slightest  degree 
for  her  own  sake  :  Shrapnel  might  think  what  he  liked,  and 
saj  what  he  liked,  as  far  as  she  was  concerned,  apart  from 
the  man  she  loved.  Rosamund  went  through  these  emotions 
altoo-ether  on  Nevil's  behalf,  and  longed  for  her  affirmatizing 
inspiring  sisterhood  until  the  thought  of  them  threw 
another  shade  on  him. 

What  champion  was  she  to  look  to  ?  To  whom  but  to 
Mr.  E  verard  Romfrey  ? 

It  was  with  a  spasm  of  delighted  reflection  that  she  hit  on 
Mr.  Romfrej.  He  was  like  a  discovery  to  her.  With  his 
strength  and  skill,  his  robust  common  sense  and  rough 
shrewd  wit,  his  prompt  comparisons,  his  chivalry,  his  love 
of  combat,  his  old  knightly  blood,  was  not  he  a  match,  and 
an  overmatch,  for  the  ramping  Radical  who  had  tangled 
N'evil  in  his  rough  snares  ?  She  ran  her  mind  over  Mr. 
Romfrey's  virtues,  down  even  to  his  towering  height  and 
breadth.  Could  she  but  once  draw  these  two  giants  into 
collision  in  devil's  presence,  she  was  sure  it  would  save 
him.  The  method  of  doing  it  she  did  not  stop  to  consider : 
she  enjoyed  her  triumph  in  the  idea. 

Meantime  she  had  passed  from  Dr.  Shrapnel  to  Miss 
Denham,  and  carried  on  a  conversation  becomingly.  Tea 
had  been  made  in  the  garden,  and  she  had  politely  sipped 
half  a  cup,  which  involved  no  step  inside  the  guilty  house, 
and  therefore  no  distress  to  her  antagonism.  The  sun 
descended.  She  heard  the  doctor  reciting.  Could  it  be 
poetry  ?  In  her  imagination  the  sombre  hues  surrounding 
an  incendiary  opposed  that  bright  spirit.  She  listened, 
smiling  incredulously.  Miss  Denham  could  interpret  looks, 
and  said,  "  Dr.  Shrapnel  is  very  fond  of  those  verses." 

Rosamund's  astonishment  caused  her  to  say,  "  Are  they 
his  own  ?  " — a  piece  of  satiric  innocency  at  which  Miss 
Denham  laughed  softly  as  she  answered,  "  No." 

Rosamund  pleaded  that  she  had  not  heard  them  with  any 
distinctness. 

"  Are  they  written  by  the  gentleman  at  his  side  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Lydiard  ?  No.  He  writes,  but  the  verses  are  not 
his." 

"  Does  he  know — has  he  met  Captain  Beauchamp  ?** 


96  BEAUCH amp's  CAESBB. 

"  Yes,  once.  Captain  Beaacliamp  has  taken  a  great  liking 
to  his  works." 

Rosamund  closed  her  eyes,  feeling  that  she  was  in  a  nest 
that  had  determined  to  appropriate  Nevil.  But  at  any  rate 
there  was  the  hope  and  the  probability  that  this  Mi-. 
Lydiard  of  the  pen  had  taken  a  long  start  of  jSTevil  in  tlie 
heart  of  Miss  Denham :  and  struggling  to  be  candid,  to 
ensure  some  meditative  satisfaction,  R-osamund  admitted  to 
herself  that  the  girl  did  not  appear  to  be  one  of  the  wanton 
giddy-pated  pusses  who  play  two  gentlemen  or  more  on  their 
line.  Appearances,  however,  could  be  deceptive :  never 
pretend  to  know  a  girl  by  her  face,  was  one  of  Rosamund's 
maxims. 

She  was  next  informed  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's  partiality  for 
music  toward  the  hour  of  sunset.  Miss  Denham  mentioned 
it,  and  the  doctor,  presently  sauntering  up,  invited  Rosamund 
to  a  seat  on  a  bench  near  the  open  \vindow  of  the  diavving- 
room.     He  nodded  to  his  ward  to  go  in. 

"I  am  a  fire-worshipper,  ma'am,"  he  said.  "  The  God  of 
day  is  the  father  of  poetry,  medicine,  music  :  our  best  friend. 
See  him  there !  My  Jenny  will  spin  a  thread  from  us  to 
him  over  the  millions  of  miles,  with  one  touch  of  the  chords, 
as  quick  as  he  shoots  a  beam  on  us.  Ay !  on  her  wretched 
tinkler  called  a  piano,  which  tries  at  the  whole  orchestra 
and  murders  every  instrument  in  the  attempt.  But  it's 
convenient,  like  our  modern  civilization — a  taming  and  a 
diminishing  of  individuals  for  an  insipid  harmony  !" 

"  You  surely  do  not  object  to  the  organ  ? — I  fear  I  cannot 
wait,  though,"  said  Rosamund. 

Miss  Denham  entreated  her.  "  Oh  !  do,  madam.  Not  to 
hear  me — I  am  not  so  perfect  a  player  that  I  should  wish  it 
— ^but  to  see  him.  Captain  Beauchamp  may  now  be  coming 
at  any  instant." 

Mr.  Lydiard  added,  "  I  have  an  appointment  with  him 
here  for  this  evening." 

"  You  build  a  cathedral  of  sound  in  the  organ,"  said  Dr. 
Shrapnel,  casting  out  a  league  of  leg  as  he  sat  beside  his 
only  half-persuaded  fretful  guest.  "  You  subject  the  winds 
to  serve  you  ;  that's  a  gain.  You  do  actually  accomplish  a 
resonant  imitation  of  the  various  instruments ;  they  sing 
out  as  your  two  hands  command  them — trumpet,  flute,  dul- 
cimer, hautboy,  drum,  storm,  earthquake,  ethereal  quire  ;  yo'i 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  DR    SHRAPNEL.  97 

h  a  ve  them  at  your  option.  But  tell  me  of  an  organ  in  the  open 
air  ?  The  sublimitjwould  vanish,  ma'am,  both  from  the  notes 
and  from  the  structure,  because  accessories  and  circumstances 
produce  its  chief  effects.  Say  that  an  organ  is  a  despotism, 
just  as  your  piano  is  the  Constitutional  bourgeois.  Match 
them  with  the  trained  orchestral  band  of  skilled  individual 
performers,  indoors  or  out,  where  each  grasps  his  instrument, 
and  each  relies  on  his  fellow  with  confidence,  and  an  unri- 
valled concord  comes  of  it.  That  is  our  republic  :  each  one 
to  his  work  ;  all  in  union !  There's  the  motto  for  us !  Then 
Yon  have  music,  harmony,  the  highest,  fullest,  finest !  Educate 
your  men  to  form  a  band,  you  shame  dexterous  trickery  and 
imitation  sounds.  Then  for  the  difference  of  real  instruments 
from  clever  shams  !  Oh,  ay,  one  will  set  your  organ  going  ; 
til  at  is,  one  in  front,  with  his  couple  of  panting  air-pumpers 
behind — his  ministers  !"  Dr.  Shrapnel  laughed  at  some  un- 
defined mental  imaq-e,  apparently  careless  of  any  laughing 
companionship.  "  One  will  do  it  for  you,  especially  if  he's 
boi-n  to  do  it.  Born  !"  A  slap  of  the  knee  reported  what 
seemed  to  be  an  immensely  contemptuous  sentiment.  "  But 
free  mouths  blowing  into  brass  and  wood,  ma'am,  beat  your 
bellows  and  your  whifflers  ;  your  artificial  choruses — crash, 
crash  !  your  unanimous  pleibiscitums  !  Beat  them  ?  There's 
no  contest :  we're  in  another  world  ;  we're  in  the  sun's  world, 
ma'am — yonder  !" 

Miss  Denham's  opening  notes  on  the  despised  piano  put  a 
curb  on  the  doctor.  She  began  a  Mass  of  Mozart's,  without 
the  usual  preliminai-y  rattle  of  the  keys,  as  of  a  crier  an- 
nouncing a  performance,  straight  to  her  task,  for  which 
Rosamund  thanked  her,  liking  that  kind  of  composed  sim- 
plicity :  she  thanked  her  more  for  cutting  short  the  doctor's 
fanatical  nonsense.  It  was  perceptible  to  her  that  a  species 
of  mad  metaphor  had  been  wriggling  and  tearing  its  passage 
through  a  thorn-bush  in  his  discoui'se,  with  the  furious 
urgency  of  a  sheep  in  a  panic ;  but  where  the  ostensible 
subject  ended  and  the  metaphor  commenced,  and  which  was 
which  at  the  conclusion,  she  found  it  difficult  to  discern — 
much  as  the  sheep  would  be  when  he  had  left  his  fleece 
behind  him.     She  could  now  have  said,  "  Silly  old  man !" 

Dr.  Shrapnel  appeared  most  placable.  He  was  gazing  at 
his  Authority  in  the  heavens,  tangled  among  gold  clouds 
and  purple  ;  his  head  bent  acutely  on  one  side,  and  his  eyes 

H 


98 


BEAFCHAMP  S  CAREEB. 


upturned  in  dim  speculation.  His  great  feet  planted  on 
their  heels  faced  him,  suggesting  the  stocks ;  his  arms  hung 
loose.  Full  many  a  hero  of  the  alehouse,  anciently  amenable 
to  leg-and-foot  imprisonment  in  the  grip  of  the  parish,  has 
presented  as  respectable  an  air.  His  forelock  straggled  as 
it  willed. 

Rosamund  rose  abruptly  as  soon  as  the  terminating  notes 
of  the  Mass  had  been  struck. 

Dr.  Shi'apnel  seemed  to  be  concluding  his  devotions  before 
he  followed  her  example. 

"  There,  ma'am,  you  have  a  telegraphic  system  for  the 
soul,"  he  said.  "  It  is  harder  work  to  travel  from  this  phice 
to  this  "  (he  pointed  at  ear  and  breast)  "  than  from  here  to 
yonder  "  (a  similar  indication  traversed  the  distance  between 
earth  and  sun).  "Man's  aim  has  hitherto  been  to  keep  men 
from  having  a  soul  for  this  world :  he  takes  it  for  something 
infernal.  j[e  ? — I  mean,  th  ey  that  hold  power.  They  shudder 
to  think  the  conservatism  of  the  earth  will  be  shaken  by  a 
change;  they  dread  they  won't  get  men  with  souls  to  fetch 
and  carry,  dig,  root,  mine,  for  them.  Right! — what  then  P 
Digginu-  and  mining  will  be  done  ;  80  will  harping  and  sing- 
ing. But  then  we  have  a  natural  optimacy !  Then,  on  tlie 
one  hand,  we  whip  the  man-lxvist  and  the  m,ui-sloth ;  on 
the  other,  we  seize  that  old  i'attod  iniquity — that  tjTant! 
that  tempter  !  that  legitimated  swindler  cursed  of  Christ ! 
that  palpable  Satan  whose  name  is  Capital ! — by  the  neck, 
and  have  him  disgorging  within  three  gasps  of  his  life. 
He  is  the  villain  !  Let  him  live,  for  he  too  comes  of  blood 
and  bone.  He  shall  not  grind  the  faces  of  the  poor  and 
helpless — that's  all." 

The  comicality  of  her  having  such  remarks  addressed  to 
her  provoked  a  smile  on  Rosamund's  lips. 

"  Don't  go  at  him  like  Samson  blind,"  said  Mr.  Lydiard ; 
and  Miss  Denham,  who  had  returned,  begged  her  guardian 
to  entreat  the  guest  to  stay. 

She  said  in  an  undertone,  "I  am  very  anxious  you  should 
see  Captain  Beauchamp,  madam." 

"  I  too  ;  but  he  will  write,  and  I  really  can  wait  no  longer," 
Rosamund  replied,  in  extreme  apprehension  lest  a  certain 
degree  of  pressure  should  overbear  her  repugnance  to  the 
doctor's  dinner-table.  ]Miss  Denham's  look  was  fixed  on 
her;  but,  whatever  it  might  mean,  Rosamund's  endurance 


A  SUPERFINE  CONSCIENCE.  99 

was  at  an  end.  She  was  invited  to  dine ;  she  refused.  .She 
was  exceedingly  glad  to  find  herself  on  the  high  road  again, 
with  a  prospect  of  reaching  Steynham  that  night ;  for  it  was 
important  that  she  should  not  have  to  confess  a  visit  to 
Bevisham  now  when  she  had  so  little  of  favourable  to  tell 
Mr.  Everard  Romfrey  of  his  chosen  nephew.  Whether  she 
had  acted  quite  wisely  in  not  remaining  to  see  l^evil,  was  an 
agitating  questior^tliat  had  to  be  silenced  by  an  appeal  to  her 
instincts  of  repulsion,  and  a  furthei-  appeal  for  justification 
of  them  to  her  imaginary  sisterhood  of  gossips.  How  could 
she  sit  and  eat,  how  pass  an  ev^ening  in  that  house,  in  the 
society  of  that  man  ?  Her  tuneful  chorus  cried,  "  How 
indeed."  Besides,  it  would  have  offended  Mr.  Romfrey  to 
hear  that  she  had  done  so.  Still  she  could  not  refuse  to 
remember  Miss  Denham's  marked  intimations  of  there  being 
a  reason  for  T^Tevil's  friend  to  seize  the  chance  of  an  imme- 
diate interview  wit't  him  ;  and  in  her  distress  at  the  thought, 
Rosamund  reluctantly,  but  as  if  compelled  by  necessity, 
ascribed  the  young  lady's  conduct  to  a  strong  sense  of  per- 
sonal interests. 

"  Evidently  she  has  no  desire  he  should  run  the  risk  of 
angering  a  rich  uncle." 

This  shameful  suspicion  was  unavoidable  :  there  was  no 
other  opiate  for  Rosamund's  blame  of  herself  after  letting 
her  instincts  gain  the  ascendancy. 

It  will  be  foi'.iui  a  common  case,  that  when  we  have  yielded 
to  our  instincts,  and  then  have  to  soothe  conscience,  we  must  ■ 
slaughter  somebody,  for  a  sacrificial  offering  to  our  sense  of  • 
comfort. 


CHAPTER  Xm. 

A   SUPERFINE    CONSCIENCB. 


However  much  Mr.  Everard  Romfrey  may  have  laughed 
at  Nevil  Beauchamp  with  his  '  banana-wreath,'  he  liked  the 
fellow  for  having  volunteered  for  that  African  coast-service, 
and  the  news  of  his  promotion  by  his  admiral  to  the  post  of 
commander  through  a  death  vacancy,  had  given  him  an 
exalted  satisfaction,  for  as  he  could  always  point  to  the  cause 

h2 


100  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

of  failures,  he  strongly  appreciated  success.  The  circum- 
stance had  offered  an  occasion  for  the  new  commander  to  hit 
him  hard  upon  a  matter  of  fact.  Beauchamp  had  sent  word 
of  his  advance  in  rank,  but  requested  his  uncle  not  to  imagine 
him  wearing  an  additional  epaulette ;  and  he  corrected  the 
infallible  gentleman's  error  (which  had  of  cou:se  been  re- 
ported to  him  when  he  was  dreaming  of  Renee,  by  ^Irs. 
Culling)  concerning  a  lieutenant's  shoLikler  decorations, 
most  gravely  ;  informing  him  of  the  anchor  on  the  lieutenant's 
'pair  of  epaulettes,  and  the  anchor  and  star  on  a  com- 
mander's, and  the  crown  on  a  captain's,  with  a  well-feigned 
solicitousness  to  save  his  uncle  from  blundering  further. 
This  was  done  in  the  dry  neat  manner  which  Mr.  Romfrey 
could  feel  to  be  his  own  turned  on  him.  He  began  to  cim- 
ceive  a  vague  respect  for  the  fellow  who  had  proved  him 
wrong  upon  a  matter  of  fact.  Beauchamp)  came  from  Africa 
rather  worn  by  the  climate,  and  immediately  obtained  the 
command  of  the  Ariadne  corvette,  wliich  had  been  some  time 
in  commission  in  the  ^Eediterranean,  whither  he  departed, 
without  visiting  Steynham ;  allowing  Rosamund  to  think 
him  tenacious  of  his  wrath  as  well  as  of  love.  Mr.  Romfrey 
considered  him  to  be  insatiable  for  service.  Beauchamp, 
during  his  absence,  had  shown  himself  awake  to  the  affairs 
of  his  country  once  only,  in  an  urgent  supplication  he 
had  forwarded  for  all  his  uncle's  influence  to  be  used  to 
get  him  appointed  to  the  first  vacancy  in  Robert  Hall's 
naval  brigade,  then  forming  a  part  of  our  handful  in  insur- 
gent India.  The  fate  of  that  chivalrous  Englishman,  that 
born  sailor- warrior,  that  truest  of  heroes,  imperishable  in 
the  memory  of  those  who  knew  him,  and  in  our  annals, 
young  though  he  was  when  death  took  him,  had  wrung 
from  JN'evil  Beauchamp  such  a  letter  of  tears  as  to  make  Mr. 
Romfrey  believe  the  naval  crown  of  glory  his  highest 
ambition.  Who  on  earth  could  have  guessed  him  to  be 
bothering  his  head  about  politics  all  the  while  !  Or  was 
the  whole  stupid  business  a  freak  of  the  moment  ? 

It  became  necessary  for  Mr.  Romfrey  to  contemplate  his 
eccentric  nephew  in  the  light  of  a  mannikin  once  more. 
Consequently  he  called  to  mind,  and  bade  Rosamund 
Culling  remember,  that  he  had  foreseen  and  had  predicted 
the  mounting  of  Nevil  Beauohamp  on  his  political  horse  one 
day  or  another ;  and  perhaps  the  earlier  the  better.     And 


A  SUPERFINE  CONSCTE:^TCB.  101 

a  donkey  could  have  sworn  that  when  he  did  mount  he 
would  come  galloping  in  among  the  Radical  rough-riders. 
Letters  were  pouring  upon  Steynham  from  men  and  women 
of  Romfrey  blood  and  relationship  concerning  the  positive 
tone  of  Radicalism  in  the  commander's  address.  Everard 
laughed  at  them.  As  a  practical  man,  his  objection  lay 
against  the  poor  fool's  choice  of  the  peccant  borough  of 
Bevisham.  Still,  in  view  of  the  needfulness  of  his  learning 
wisdom,  and  rajDidly,  the  disbursement  of  a  lot  of  his  money, 
certain  to  be  required  by  Bevisham's  electors,  seemed  to  be 
the  surest  method  for  quickening  his  wits.  Thus  would  he 
be  acting  as  his  owm  chirurgeon,  gaily  practising  phlebotomy 
on  his  person  to  cure  him  of  his  fever.  Too  much  money 
was  not  the  origin  of  the  fever  in  Nevil's  case,^bifct  he  had 
too  small  a  sense  of  the  value  of  what  he  possessed,  and  the 
diminishing  stock  would  be  likely  to  cry  out  shrilly. 

To  this  effect,  never  complaining  that  N'evil  Beauchamp 
had  not  come  to  him  to  take  counsel  with  him,  the  high- 
minded  old  gentleman  talked.  At  the  same  time,  while 
indulging  in  so  philosophical  a  picture  of  himself  as  was 
presented  by  a  Romfrey  mildly  accounting  for  events  and 
smoothing  them  under  the  infliction  of  an  offence,  he  could 
not  but  feel  that  Xevil  had  challenged  him  :  such  was  the 
readiijg  of  it ;  and  he  waited  for  some  justifiable  excitement 
to  fetch  him  out  of  the  magnanimous  mood,  rather  in  the 
image  of  an  angler,  it  must  be  owned. 

"  Xevil  understands  that  I  am  not  going  to  -pay  a  farthing 
of  his  expenses  in  Bevisham  ?"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Culling. 

She  replied  blandly  and  with  innocence,  "  I  have  not  seen 
him,  sir." 

He  nodded.  At  the  next  mention  of  j^evil  between  them, 
he  asked,  "  Where  is  it  he's  lying  perdu,  ma'am  ?" 

"  I  fancy  in  that  town,  in  Bevisham." 

"At  the  Liberal,  Radical,  hotel  r" 

"  I  dare  say  ;  some  place ;  I  am  not  certain.  ....,*' 

"  The  rascal  doctor's  house  there?     Shrapnel's  ?** 

"Really  ....  I  have  not  seen  him." 

"  Have  you  heard  from  him  ?" 

"  I  have  had  a  letter  ;  a  short  one." 

"  Where  did  he  date  his  letter  from  ?'* 

*'  From  Bevisham." 

"From  \vhat  house?" 


102 

Rosamnnd  glanced  about  for  a  way  of  escaping"  tlie  qiies- 
ion.     There  was  none  but  the  door.     She  replied,  "  From 
Dr.  Shrapnel's." 

^'  That's  the  Anti- Game-Law  agitator." 

"  You  do  not  imagine,  sir,  that  I^evil  subscribes  to  every 
thing  the  horrid  man  agitates  for  ?" 

"  You  don't  like  the  man,  ma'am  ?" 

"I  detest  him." 

"  Ha !     So  you  have  seen  Shrapnel  ?" 

**  Only  for  a  moment ;  a  moment  or  two.  I  cannot  endure 
him.     I  am  sure  I  have  reason." 

Rosamund  flushed  exceedingly  red.  The  visit  to  Dr. 
Shrapnel's  house  was  her  secret,  and  the  worming  of  it  out 
made  hev  feel  guilty,  and  that  feeling  revived  and  heated 
her  antipathy  to  the  Radical  doctor. 

"  What  reason  ?"  said  Mr.  Romfrey,  freshening  at  her 
display-  of  colour. 

She  would  not  expose  Nevil  to  the  accusation  of  childish- 
ness by  confessing  her  positive  reason,  so  she  answered, 
"  The  man  is  a  kind  of  man  ....  I  was  not  there  long  ;  I 
was  glad  to  escape.  He  .  .  ."  she  hesitated:  for  in  truth 
it  was  diflScult  to  shape  the  charge  against  him,  and  tlie 
effort  to  be  reticent  concerning  Nevil,  and  commun  ative, 
now  that  he  had  been  spoken  of,  as  to  the  detested  doctor, 
reduced  her  to  some  confusion.  She  was  also  fatally  anxious 
to  be  in  the  extreme  degi'ee  conscientious,  and  corrected  and 
modified  her  remarks  most  suspiciously. 

"  Did  he  insult  you,  ma'am  r"  Mr.  Romfrey  inquired. 

She  replied  hastily,  "  Oh  no.  He  may  be  a  good  man  in 
his  wa}^  He  is  one  of  those  men  who  do  not  seem  to  think 
a  v.'oman  may  have  opinions.  He  does  not  scruple  to  outrage 
those  we  hold.  I  am  afraid  he  is  an  infidel.  His  ideas  of 
family  duties  and  ties,  and  his  manner  of  expressing  himself, 
shocked  me,  that  is  all.  He  is  absurd.  I  dare  say  there  is 
no  harm  in  him,  except  for  those  who  are  so  unfortunate  as 
to  fall  under  his  influence — and  that,  I  feel  sure,  cannot  be 
permanent.  He  could  not  injure  me  personally.  He  could 
not  oiicnd  me,  I  mean.  Indied,  I  have  nothing  whatever  to 
say  against  him,  as  far  as  I  ...  ." 

"  Did  he  fail  to  treat  you  as  a  lady,  ma'am  ?" 

Rosamund  was  getting  frightened  by  the  significant  perti- 
nacity of  her  lord. 


A  SUPEEPINE  CONSCIENCE.  103 

"I  am  sure,  sir,  he  meant  no  harm." 

"  Was  the  man  uncivil  to  you,  ma'am  ?"  came  the  emphatic 
interrogation. 

She  asked  herself,  had  Dr.  Shrapnel  been  uncivil  toward 
her  ?  And  so  conscientious  was  she.  that  she  allowed  the 
question  to  be  debated  in  her  mind  for  half  a  minute, 
answering  then,  "  No,  not  uncivil.  I  cannot  exactly  explain 
....  He  certainly  did  not  intend  to  be  uncivil.  He  is 
only  an  unpolished,  vexatious  man ;  enormously  tall." 

Mr.  Romfrey  ejaculated,  "  Ha  !  humph  !" 

His  view  of  Dr.  Shrapnel  was  taken  from  that  instant. 
It  was,  that  this  enormously  big  blustering  agitator  against 
the  preservation  of  birds,  had  behaved  i-udely  toward  the 
lady  officially  the  chief  of  his  household,  and  might  be  con- 
sidered in  the  light  of  an  adversary  one  would  like  to  meet. 
The  size  of  the  man  increased  his  aspect  of  villany,  which 
in  return  added  largely  to  his  giant  size.  Everard  Rom- 
frey's  mental  eye  could  perceive  an  attractiveness  about  the 
man  little  short  of  magnetic ;  for  he  thought  of  him  so  much 
that  he  had  to  think  of  what  was  due  to  his  pacifical  dispo- 
sition (deeply  believed  in  by  him)  to  spare  himself  the 
trouble  of  a  visit  to  Bevisham. 

The  young  gentleman  whom  he  regarded  as  the  Radical 
doctor's  dupe,  fell  in  for  a  share  of  his  view  of  the  doctor, 
and  Mr.  Romfrey  became  less  fitted  to  observe  Xevil  Bean- 
champ's  doings  with  the  Olympian  grav^ity  he  had  originally 
assumed. 

The  extreme  delicacy  of  Rosamund's  conscience  was  fretted 
by  a  remorseful  doubt  of  her  having  conveyed  a  just  impres- 
sion of  Dr.  Shrapnel,  somewhat  as  though  the  sleek  fine  coat 
of  it  were  brushed  the  wrong  way.  Reflection  ^zarned  her 
that  her  deliberative  intensely  sincere  pause  before  she  re- 
sponded to  Mr.  Romfrey's  last  demand,  might  have  implied 
more  than  her  words.  She  consoled  herself  wdth  the  thought 
that  it  was  the  dainty  susceptibility  of  her  conscientiousness 
which  caused  these  noble  qualms,  and  so  deeply  does  a  refined 
nature  esteem  the  gift,  that  her  pride  in  it  helped  her  to  over- 
look her  moral  perturbation.  She  was  consoled,  moreover, 
up  to  the  verge  of  triumph  in  her  realization  of  the  image  of 
a  rivalling  and  excelling  power  presented  by  Mr.  Romfrey, 
though  it  had  frightened  her  at  tlie  time.  Let  not  Dr. 
Shrapnel  come  across  him  !     She  hoped  he  would  not.    Ulti« 


104  BEATTCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

mately  she  could  say  to  herself,  "  Perhaps  I  need  not  have 
been  so  annoyed  with  the  horrid  man."  It  was  on  Nevil's 
account.  Shrapnel's  contempt  of  the  claims  of  Nevil's  family 
upon  him  was  actually  a  piece  of  impudence,  impudently  ex- 
pressed, if  she  remembered  correctly.  And  Shrapnel  was  a 
black  malignant,  the  foe  of  the  nation's  Constitution,  de- 
serving of  punishment  if  ever  man  was  ;  with  his  ridiculous 
metaphors,  and  talk  of  organs  and  pianos,  orchestras  and 
despotisms,  and  flying  to  the  sun !  How  could  Nevil  listen 
to  the  creature !  Shrapnel  must  be  a  shameless  hypocrite  to 
mask  his  wickedness  from  one  so  clearsighted  as  N^evil,  and 
no  doubt  he  indulged  in  his  impudence  out  of  wanton  plea- 
sure in  it.  His  business  was  to  catch  young  gentlemen  of 
family,  and  to  turn  them  against  their  families,  plainly. 
That  was  thinking  the  best  of  him.  No  doubt  he  had  his 
objects  to  gain.  '•  He  might  have  been  as  impudent  as  he 
liked  to  me;  I  would  have  pardoned  him!'  Rosamund  ex- 
claimed. Personally,  you  see,  she  was  generous.  On  the 
whole,  knowing  Everard  Romfrey  as  sl.c  did,  she  wished 
that  she  had  behaved,  albeit  perfectly  discreet  in  her  belia- 
viour,  and  conscientiously  just,  a  shade  or  two  differently. 
But  the  evil  was  done. 


CHAPTER  XTV. 

THE  LEADING  AIjTK'LE  AND  MR.  TIMOTHY  TT7RB0T. 

Nevtl  declined  to  come  to  Steynham,  clearly  owing  to  a 
dread  of  hearing  Dr.  Shrapnel  abused,  as  Rtisamund  judged 
by  the  warmth  of  his  written  eulogies  of  the  man,  and  an 
ensuing  allusion  to  Game.  He  said  that  he  had  not  made 
up  his  mind  as  to  the  Game  Laws.  Rosamund  mentioned 
the  fact  to  Mr.  Rorafrey.  "  So  we  may  stick  by  our  licences 
to  shoot  to-morrow,"  he  rejoined.  Of  a  letter  that  he  also 
had  received  from  ISTevil,  he  did  not  speak.  She  hinted  at 
it,  and  he  stared.  He  would  have  deemed  it  as  vain  a  snb- 
*ect  to  discourse  of  India,  or  Continental  affairs,  at  a  period 
when  his  house  was  full  for  the  opening  day  of  sport,  and 
the  expectation  of  keeping  up  his  renown  for  gi'eat  bags  on 


THE  LEADTXG  ARTICLE.  105 

that  day  so  entirely  occupied  his  mind.  Good  shots  weie 
present  who  had  contributed  to  the  fame  of  Steynham  on 
other  opening  days.  Birds  were  plentiful  and  promised  not 
to  be  too  wild.  He  had  the  range  of  the  ►Steynham  estate  in 
his  eye,  dotted  with  covers  ;  and  after  Steynham,  Holdes- 
bury,  which  had  never  yielded  him  the  same  high  celebrity, 
but  both  lay  mapped  out  for  action  under  the  profound  cal- 
culations of  the  strategist,  ready  to  show  the  skill  of  the 
field  tactician.  He  could  not  attend  to  JSTevil.  Even  the 
talk  of  the  forthcoming  Elections,  hardly  to  be  avoided  at 
his  table,  seemed  a  puerile  distraction.  Ware  the  foe  of  his 
partridges  and  pheasants,  be  it  man  or  vermin  !  The  name 
of  Shrapnel  was  frequently  on  the  tongue  of  Captain  Baske- 
lett.  Rosamund  heard  him,  in  her  room,  and  his  derisive 
shouts  of  laughter  over  it.  Cecil  was  a  fine  shot,  quite  as 
fond  of  the  pastime  as  his  uncle,  and  always  in  favour  with 
him  while  sport  stalked  the  land.  He  was  in  gallant  spirits, 
and  Rosamund,  brooding  over  Nevil's  fortunes,  and  sitting 
much  alone,  as  she  did  when  there  were  guests  in  the  house, 
gave  way  to  her  previous  apprehensions.  She  touched  on 
them  to  Mr.  Stukely  C'ulbrett,  her  husl^and's  old  friend,  one 
of  those  happy  men  who  enjoy  perceptions  without  opinions, 
and  are  not  born  to  administer  comfort  to  other  than  them- 
selves. As  far  as  she  could  gather,  he  fancied  Nevil  Beau- 
champ  was  in  danger  of  something,  but  he  delivered  his 
mind  only  upon  circumstances  and  characters  :  Nevil  risked 
his  luck,  Cecil  knew  his  game,  Everard  Romfrey  w^as  the 
staunchest  of  mankind  :  Stukely  had  nothing  further  to  sa}^ 
regarding  the  situation.  She  asked  him  what  he  thought, 
and  he  smiled.  Could  a  reasonable  head  venture  to  think 
anything  in  particular  ?  He  repeated  the  amazed,  "  You 
don't  say  so  "  of  Colonel  Halkett,  on  hearing  the  name  of  the 
new  Liberal  candidate  for  Bevisham  at  the  dinner-tal)le, 
together  with  some  of  Cecil's  waggish  embroidery  upon  the 
theme. 

Rosamund  exclaimed  angTily,  "  Oh  !  if  I  had  been  there 
he  would  not  have  dared." 

"  Why  not  be  there  ?"  said  Stukely.  "  You  have  had 
your  choice  for  a  number  of  years." 

She  shook  her  head,  reddening. 

But  supposing  that  she  had  greater  privileges  than  were 
hers  now  r^     The  idea  flashed.     A  taint  of  personal  pique, 


106  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

awakened  by  tlie  fancied  necessity  for  putting  lier  devoted- 
ness  to  iS'eTil  to  proof,  asked  her  if  she  would  then  be  the 
official  housekeepei-  to  whom  Captain  Baskelett  bowed  low 
with  affected  respect  and  impertinent  affability,  ironically 
praising  her  abroad  as  a  wonder  among  women,  that  could 
at  one  time  have  played  the  deuce  in  the  family,  had  she 
chosen  to  do  so. 

"Just  as  you  like,"  Mr.  Culbrett  remarked.  It  was  his 
ironical  habit  of  mind  to  believe  that  the  Avishes  of  men  and 
women — women  as  well  as  men — were  expressed  by  their 
utterances. 

"But  speak  of  Nevil  to  Colonel  Halkett,"  said  Rosamund, 
earnestly  carrying  on  what  was  in  her  heart.  "  Persuade 
the  colonel  you  do  not  think  Nevil  foolish — not  more  than 
just  a  little  impetuous.  I  want  that  marriage  to  come  ofi: ! 
Not  on  account  of  her  wealth.  She  is  to  inherit  a  Welsh 
mine  from  her  uncle,  you  know,  besides  being  an  only  child. 
Recall  what  Nevil  was  during  the  war.  Miss  Halkett  has 
not  forgotten  it,  I  am  sure,  and  a  good  word  for  him  from  a 
man  of  the  world  would,  I  am  certain,  counteract  Captain 
Baskelett's— are  they  designs  ?  At  any  rate,  you  can  if  you 
like  help  Nevil  with  the  colonel.  I  am  convinced  they  are 
doing  him  a  mischief.  Colonel  Halkett  has  bought  an 
estate — and  what  a  misfortune  that  is  1 — close  to  Bevisham. 
I  fancy  he  is  Toryish.  Will  you  not  speak  to  him  ?  At  my 
request  ?     I  am  so  helpless  I  could  cry." 

"  Fancy  you  have  no  handkerchief,"  said  Mr.  Culbrett : 
"  and  give  up  scheming,  pray.  One  has  only  to  begin  to 
scheme,  to  shorten  life  to  half-a-dozen  hops  and  jumps.  I 
could  say  to  the  colonel,  '  Young  Beauchamp's  a  political 
cub :  he  ought  to  have  a  motherly  wife.'  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  are  right ;  don't  speak  to  him  at  all,"  said 
Rosamund,  feeling  that  there  must  be  a  conspiracy  to  rob  her 
of  her  proud  independence,  since  not  a  soul  could  be  won  to 
sjDare  her  from  taking  some  energetic  step,  if  she  would  be 
useful  to  him  she  loved. 

Colonel  Halkett  was  one  of  the  guests  at  Steynhani  who 
knew  and  respected  her,  and  he  paid  her  a  visit  and  alluded 
to  Nevil's  candidature,  apparently  not  thinking  much  the 
worse  of  him.  "  We  can't  allow  him  to  succeed,"  he  said, 
and  looked  for  a  smiling  approval  of  such  natural  opjDosition, 
which  Rosamund  gave  him  readily  after  he  had  expressed 


THE  LEADING  AETICLE.  107 

tlie  hope  tliat  I^evil  Beauchamp  would  take  advantage  of 
liis  proximity  to  Mount  Laurels  during  the  contest  to  try  the 
hospitality  of  the  house.  "  He  won't  mind  meeting  his 
uncle?"  The  colonel's  eyes  twinkled.  "  My  daughter  has 
engaged  Mr.  Romfi-ev  and  Captain  Baskelett  to  come  to  us 
when  they  have  shot  Holdesbury." 

And  Captain  Baskelett !  thought  Rosamund ;  her  jealousy 
whispering  that  the  mention  of  his  name  close  upon  Cecilia 
Halkett's  might  have  a  nuptial  signification. 

She  was  a  witness  from  her  window — a  prisoner's  window, 
her  eager  heart  could  have  termed  it — of  a  remarkable  osten- 
tation of  cordiality  between  the  colonel  and  Cecil,  in  the 
presence  of  Mr.  Romfrey.  Was  it  his  humour  to  conspire  to 
hand  Miss  Halkett  to  Cecil,  and  then  to  show  Nevil  the  prize 
he  had  forfeited  by  his  folly  ?  The  three  were  on  the  lawn 
1  little  before  Colonel  Halkett's  departure.  The  colonel's 
irm  was  linked  with  Cecil's  while  they  conversed.  Presently 
the  latter  received  his  afternoon's  letters,  and  a  newspaper. 
He  soon  had  the  paper  out  at  a  square  stretch,  and  sprightly 
information  for  the  other  two  was  visible  in  his  crowing 
throat.  Ml'.  Romfrey  raised  the  gun  from  his  shoulder-pad, 
and  grounded  it.  Colonel  Halkett  wished  to  peruse  the 
matter  with  his  own  eyes,  but  Cecil  could  not  permit  it;  he 
must  read  it  aloud  for  them,  and  he  suited  his  action  to  the 
sentences.  Had  Rosamund  been  accustomed  to  leading 
articles  which  are  the  composition  of  men  of  an  imposing 
vocabulary,  she  would  have  recognized  and  as  good  as  read 
one  in  Cecil's  gestures  as  he  tilted  his  lofty  stature  forward 
and  back,  marking  his  commas  and  semicolons  with  flapping 
of  his  elbows,  and  all  but  doubling  his  body  at  his  periods. 
Mr.  Romfrey  had  enough  of  it  half-way  down  the  column ; 
his  head  went  sharply  to  left  and  right.  Cecil's  peculiar 
foppish  slicing  down  of  his  hand  pictured  him  protesting 
that  there  was  more  and  finer  of  the  inimitable  stuff'  to  follow. 
The  end  of  the  scene  exhibited  the  paper  on  the  turf,  and 
Colonel  Halkett's  hand  on  Cecil'?  shoulder,  Mr.  Romfrey 
nodding  some  sort  of  acquiescence  over  the  muzzle  of  his 
gun,  v.hether  reflective  or  positive  Rosamund  could  not 
decide.  She  sent  out  a  footman  for  the  paper,  and  was  pre- 
sently communing  with  its  eloquent  large  type,  quite  unable 
to  j)erceive  Avhere  the  comicality  oi-  the  impropriety  of  it  lay, 
for  it  would  ha\  e  struck  her  that  never  were  truer  things  of 


108  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEEB. 

Nevil  Beancliamp  better  said  in  the  tone  befitting  them. 
This  perbaps  was  because  she  never  heard  fervid  piaises  of 
him,  or  of  anybody,  delivered  from  the  month,  and  it  is  not 
common  to  hear  Englishmen  phrasing  great  eulogies  of  one 
another.  Still,  as  a  rule,  they  do  not  object  to  have  it  per- 
formed in  that  region  of  our  national  eloquence,  the  Press,  by 
an  Irishman  or  a  Scotchman.  And  what  could  there  be  to 
warrant  Captain  Baskelett's  malicious  derision,  and  Mv. 
Romfrey's  nodding  assent  to  it,  in  an  article  where  all  was 
truth  ? 

The  truth  was  mounted  on  an  unusually  high  wind.  It 
was  indeed  a  leading  article  of  a  banner-like  bravery,  and  the 
unrolling  of  it  was  designed  to  stir  emotions.  Beauchamp 
was  the  theme.  Nevil  had  it  under  his  eyes  earlier  than 
Cecil.  The  paper  was  brought  into  his  room  with  the  beams 
of  day,  damp  from  the  presses  of  the  Bevii^ham  Gazette^ 
exactly  opposite  to  him  in  the  White  Hart  Hotel ,  and  a  glance 
at  the  paragraphs  gave  him  a  lively  ardour  to  spring  to  his 
feet.  What  writing !  He  was  uplifted  as  '  The  heroical 
Commander  Beaucham]),  of  the  Koyal  Navy,'  and  'Com- 
mander Beauchamp,  R.N.,  a  gentleman  of  the  highest  con- 
nections ' :  he  was  '  that  illustrious  Commander  Beauchamp, 
of  our  matchless  navy,  who  proved  on  every  field  of  the  last 
glorious  war  of  this  country  that  the  traditional  valour  of  the 
noble  and  indomitable  blood  transmitted  to  his  veins  had  lost 
none  of  its  edge  and  weight  since  the  battle-axes  of  the  Lords 
de  Romfrey,  ever  to  the  fore,  clove  the  skulls  of  our  national 
enemy  on  the  wide  and  fertile  champaigns  of  Fi-ance.'  This 
was  pageantry. 

There  was  more  of  it.  Then  the  serious  afflatus  of  the 
article  condescended,  as  it  were,  to  blow  a  shrill  and  well- 
known  whistle: — the  study  of  the  science  of  navigation  made 
by  Commander  Beauchamp,  R.N.,  was  cited  for  a  jocose  war- 
ranty of  a  seaman's  aptness  to  assist  in  steering  the  Vessel  of 
the  State.  After  thus  heeling  over,  to  tip  a  familiaj-  wink 
to  the  multitude,  the  leader  tone  resumed  its  fit  deport- 
ment. Commander  Beauchamp,  in  responding  to  the  invi- 
tation of  the  great  and  united  Liberal  party  of  the  borough 
of  Bevisham,  obeyed  the  inspirations  of  genius,  the  dictates 
of  humanity,  and  what  he  rightly  considered  the  paramount 
duty,  as  it  is  the  proudest  ambition,  of  the  citizen  of  a  free 
country 


THE  LEADING  ARTICLE.  109 

But  for  an  occasional  drop  and  bump  of  the  sailing  gas- 
bag upon  catch- words  of  enthusiasm,  which  are  the  rhetoric 
of  the  merely  windj,  and  a  collapse  on  a  poetic  line,  which 
too  often  signalizes  the  rhetorician's  emptiness  of  his  wind, 
the  article  was  eminent  for  flight,  sweep,  and  dash,  and 
sailed  along  far  more  grandlj  than  ordinary  provincial 
organs  for  the  promoting  or  seconding  of  public  opinion, 
that  are  as  little  to  be  compared  with  the  mighty  metro- 
politan as  are  the  fife  and  bugle  boys  practising  on  their 
instruments  round  melancholy  outskirts- of  garrison  towns 
with  the  regimental  marching  full  band  under  the  pre- 
sidency of  its  drum-major.  No  signature  to  th^i  article  was 
needed  for  Bevisham  to  know  who  had  returned  to  the  town 
to  pen  it.  Those  long-stretching  sentences,  comparable  to 
the  very  ship  Leviathan,  spanning  two  Atlantic  billows, 
appertained  to  none  but  the  renowned  Mr.  Timothy  Tnrbot, 
of  the  Corn  Law  campaigns,  Reform  agitations,  and  all 
manifestly  popular  movements  requiring  the  heaven-endowed 
man  of  speech,  an  interpreter  of  multitudes,  and  a  prompter. 
Like  most  men  who  have  little  to  say,  he  was  an  orator  in 
print,  but  that  was  a  poor  medium  for  him — his  body  with- 
out his  fire.  Mr,  Timothy's  place  was  the  platform.  A 
wise  discernment,  or  else  a  lucky  accident  (for  he  came 
hurriedly  from  the  soil  of  his  native  isle,  needing  occupa- 
tion), set  him  on  that  side  in  politics  which  happened  to 
be  making  an  established  current  and  strong  headway. 
Oratory  will  not  work  against  the  stream,  or  on  languid 
tides.  Driblets  of  movements  that  allowed  the  world  to 
doubt  whether  they  were  so  much  movements  as  illusions 
of  the  optics,  did  not  suit  his  genius.  Thus  he  was  a 
Liberal,  no  Radical,  fountain.  Liberalism  had  the  attrac- 
tion for  the  orator  of  being  the  active  force  in  politics, 
between  two  passive  opposing  bodies,  the  aspect  of  either  of 
which  it  can  assume  for  a  menace  to  the  other,  Toryish  as 
against  Radicals  ;  a  trifle  red  in  the  eyes  of  the  Tory,  It 
can  seem  to  lean  back  on  the  Past ;  it  can  seem  to  be 
amorous  of  the  Future.  It  is  actually  the  thing  of  the 
Present  and  its  urgencies,  therefore  popular,  pouring  forth 
the  pure  vv^aters  of  moderation,  strong  in  their  copiousness. 
Delicious  and  rapturous  effects  are  to  be  produced  in  the 
flood  of  a  Liberal  oration  by  a  chance  infusion  of  the  fierier 
spirit,  a  flavour  of  Radicalism.     That  is  the  thing  to  set  an 


110  BEAUCHA^IP'S  CAEEER. 

audience  bounding  and  quirking.  Whereas  if  yon  com- 
mence by  tilting  a  Triton  pitcher  full  of  the  neat  liquor 
upoD  them,  you  have  to  resort  to  the  natural  element  for  the 
orator's  art  of  variation,  you  are  diluted — and  that's  bathos, 
to  quote  ^Ir.  Tim(;thy.  It  was  a  fine  piece  of  discernment 
in  him.  Let  Liberalism  be  your  feast,  Radicalism  your 
spice.  And  now  and  then,  oil  and  on,  for  a  change,  for 
diversion,  for  a  new  emotion,  just  for  half  an  hour  or  so — 
now  and  then  the  Sunday  coat  of  Toryism  will  give  you 
an  air.  You  have  only  to  complain  of  the  fit,  to  release 
your  shoulders  in  a  trice.  Mr.  Timothy  felt  for  his  art  as 
poets  do  for  theirs,  and  co-nsido^-cd  what  was  best  adapted 
to  speaking,  purely  to  specti-;.mg.  Upon  no  creature  did  he 
look  with  such  contempt  as  upon  Dr.  Shrapnel,  whose  loose 
disjunct  audiences  he  was  conscious  he  could,  giving  the 
doctor  any  start  he  liked,  whirl  away  from  him  and  have 
compact,  enchained,  at  his  first  flourish;  yea,  though  they 
were  composed  of  '  the  poor  man,'  with  a  stomach  for  the 
political  distillery  fit  to  drain  relishingly  every  private  l)og- 
side  or  mountain-side  tap  in  old  Ireland  in  its  best  days — 
the  illicit,  you  understand. 

Further,  to  quote  Mr.  Timothy's  points  of  view,  the 
Radical  orator  has  but  two  notes,  and  one  is  the  drawling 
pathetic,  and  the  other  is  the  ultra-furious ;  and  the  efi^ect 
of  the  former  we  liken  to  the  liUglish  working  man's  wife's 
hob-set  queasy  brew  of  well-meant  villany,  that  she  calls  by 
the  innocent  name  of  tea ;  and  the  latter  is  to  be  blown, 
asks  to  be  blown,  and  never  should  be  blown  without  at 
least  seeming  to  be  blown,  with  an  accompaniment  of  a 
house  on  fire.  Sir,  we  must  adapt  ourselves  to  our  times. 
Perhaps  a  spark  or  two  does  lark  about  our  house,  but  we 
have  vigilant  watchmen  in  plenty,  and  the  house  has  been 
pretty  fairly  insured.  Shrieking  in  it  is  an  annoyance  to 
the  inmates,  nonsensical ;  weeping  is  a  sickly  business. 
The  times  are  against  Radicalism  to  the  full  as  much 
as  great  oratory  is  opposed  to  extremes.  These  drag  the 
orator  too  near  to  the  matter.  So  it  is  that  one  Radical 
speech  is  amazingly  like  another  —  they  all  have  the 
earth-spots.  They  smell,  too ;  they  smell  of  brimstone. 
Soaring  is  impossible  among  that  faction ;  but  this  they  can 
do,  they  can  furnish  the  Tory  his  opportunity  to  soar. 
When  hear  you  a   thrilling   Tory   speech    that  carries  the 


THE  LEADING  ARTICLE.  Ill 

cotnitiy  witli  it,  save  when  the  incendiary  Eadical  has 
shrieked  ?  If  there  was  envy  in  the  soul  of  Timoth}^,  it  was 
addressed  to  the  fine  occasions  oifered  to  the  Tory  speaker 
for  vindicating  our  ancient  principles  and  our  saci-ed  homes. 
He  admired  the  tone  to  be  as^umed  for  that  purpose  :  it  was 
a  good  note.  Then  could  the  Tory,  delivering  at  the  right 
season  the  Shakesperian  "  This  England  ..."  and  Byronic 
— "  The  inviolate  Island  .  .  .  ."  shake  the  frame,  as  though 
smiting  it  with  the  tail  of  the  gymnotus  electricus.  Ah, 
and  then  could  he  thump  out  his  H(U'ace,  the  Tory's  mentor 
and  his  cordial,  with  other  great  ancient  comic  and  satiric 
poets,  his  old  Port  of  the  classical  cellarage,  rejecting  venera- 
tion upon  him  who  did  but  name  them  to  an  audience  of 
good  dispositions.  The  Tory  possessed  also  an  innate 
inimitably  easy  style  of  humour,  that  had  the  long  reach, 
the  jolly  lordly  indifference,  the  comfortable  masterfulness, 
of  the  whip  of  a  four-in-hand  driver,  capable  of  flicking  and 
stinging,  and  of  being  ironically  caressing.  Timothy  appre- 
ciated it,  for  he  had  winced  under  it.  ISTo  professor  of 
Liberalism  could  venture  on  it,  unless  it  were  in  the  remote 
district  of  a  back  parlour,  in  the  society  of  a  cherishing 
friend  or  two,  and  with  a  slice  of  lemon  requiring  to  be  re- 
floated in  the  glass. 

But  gifts  of  this  description  were  of  a  minor  order. 
Liberalism  gave  the  heading  cry,  devoid  of  which  parties  are 
dogs  without  a  scent,  orators  mere  pump-handles.  The 
Tory's  cry  was  but  a  whistle  to  his  pack,  the  Hadical  howled 
to  the  moon  like  any  chained  hound.  And  no  wonder,  for 
these  parties  had  no  established  current,  they  were  as  hard- 
bound waters  ;  the  Radical  being  diked  and  dammed  most 
soundly,  the  Tory  resembling  a  placid  lake  of  the  plains,  fed 
by  springs  and  no  confluents.  For  such  good  reasons,  Mr. 
Timothy  rejoiced  in  the  happy  circumstances  which  had 
expelled  him  from  the  shores  of  his  native  isle  to  find  a 
refuge  and  a  vocation  in  Manchester  at  a  period  when  an 
orator  happened  to  be  in  request  because  dozens  were  wanted. 
That  centre  of  convulsions  and  source  of  streams  possessed 
the  statistical  orator,  the  reasoning  orator,  and  the  inspired ; 
with  others  of  quality ;  and  yet  it  had  need  of  an  ever-ready 
spontaneous  impertui'bable  speaker,  whose  bubbling  generali- 
zations and  ability  to  beat  the  drum  humorous  could  swing 
halls  of  meeting  from  the  grasp   of   an    enemy,  and   then 


112 

ascend  on  incalescent  adjectives  to  the  popular  idea  of  tTio 
sublime.  He  was  the  artistic  orator  of  Corn  Law  Repeal — 
the  Manchester  flood,  before  which  time  Whigs  were,  since 
which  they  have  walked  like  spectral  antediluvians,  or 
floated  as  dead  canine  bodies  that  are  sucked  away  on  the 
ebb  of  tides  and  flung  back  on  the  flow,  ignorant  whether 
they  be  progressive  or  retrogade.  Timoi  liy  Turbot  assisted 
in  that  vast  effort.  It  should  have  elevated  him  beyond  the 
editorship  of  a  country  newspaper.  Why  it  did  not  do  so 
his  antagonists  pretended  to  know,  and  his  friends  would 
smile  to  hear.  The  report  was  that  he  worshipped  the 
nymph  Whisky. 

Timothy's  article  had  plucked  Beauchamp  out  of  bed  : 
Beauchamp's  card  in  return  did  the  same  for  him. 

"  Commander  Beauchamp  ?  I  am  heartily  glad  to  make 
your  acquaintance,  sir;  I've  been  absent,  at  work,  on  the  big 
business  we  have  in  common,  I  rejoice  to  say,  and  am 
behind  my  fellow  townsmen  in  this  pleasure  :  and  lucky  I 
slept  here  in  my  room  above,  where  I  don't  often  sleep,  for 
the  row  of  the  machinery — ^it's  like  a  steamer  that  won't  go, 
though  it's  always  starting  ye,"  Mr.  Timothy  said  in  a  single 
breath,  upon  entering  the  back  oSice  of  the  Gazette,  like 
unto  those  accomplished  violinists  who  can  hold  on  the  bow 
to  finger  an  incredible  number  of  notes,  and  may  be  imaged 
as  representing  slow  paternal  Time,  thai  rolls  his  capering 
dot-headed  generation  of  mortals  over  tlie  wheel,  hundreds 
to  the  minute.  "  You'll  excuse  my  not  shaving,  sir,  to  come 
down  to  your  summons  without  an  extra  touch  to  the  neck- 
band." 

Beauchamp  beheld  a  middle-sized  round  man,  with  loose 
lips  and  pendant  indigo  jowl,  whose  eyes  twinkled  watery, 
like  pebbles  under  the  shore- wash,  and  whose  neck-band 
needed  an  extra  touch  from  fingers  other  than  his  own. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  disturbed  you  so  earh'-,"  he  replied. 

"  Not  a  bit,  Commander  Beauchamp,  not  a  bit,  sir.  Early 
or  late,  and  ay  ready — with  the  Napiers  ;  I'll  wash,  I'll 
wash." 

"  I  came  to  speak  to  you  of  this  article  of  yours  on  me. 
They  tell  me  in  the  office  that  you  are  the  wiiter.  Pray 
don't  '  Commander  '  me  so  much. — It's  not  customary,  and  I 
object  to  it." 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  Timothy  acquiesced. 


THE  LEADING  ARTICLE.  1 1  3 

"  And  for  the  future,  Mr.  Turbot,  please  to  be  good 
enongli  not  to  allude  in  print  to  any  of  my  performances 
here  and  there.  Your  intentions  are  complimentary,  but  it 
happens  that  I  don't  like  a  public  patting  on  the  back." 

"  No,  and  that's  true,"  said  Timothy. 

His  appreciative  and  sympathetic  agreement  with  these 
sharp  strictures  on  the  article  brought  Beauchamp  to  a  stop. 

Timothy  waited  for  him  ;  then,  smoothing  his  prickly 
cheek,  remarked :  "  If  I'd  guessed  your  errand,  Commander 
Beauchamp,  I'd  have  called  in  the  barber  before  I  came 
down,  just  to  make  myself  decent  for  a  first  introduction." 

Beauchamp  was  not  insensible  to  the  slyness  of  the  poke 
at  him.  "  You  see,  I  come  to  the  borough  unknown  to  it, 
and  as  quietly  as  possible,  and  I  want  to  be  taken  as  a  politi- 
cian," he  continued,  for  the  sake  of  showing  that  he  had 
sufficient  to  say  to  account  for  his  hasty  and  peremptory 
summons  of  the  writer  of  that  article  to  his  presence.  "  It's 
excessively  disagreeable  to  have  one's  family  lugged  into 
notice  in  a  newspaper — especially  if  they  are  of  different 
politics.     I  feel  it." 

"  All  would,  sir,"  said  Timothy. 

"  Then  why  the  deuce  did  you  do  it  ?'* 

Timothy  drew  a  lading  of  air  into  his  Inngs.  **  Politics, 
Commander  Beauchamp,  involves  the  doing  of  lots  of  dis- 
agreeable things  to  ourselves  and  our  relations ;  it's  positive. 
I'm  a  soldier  of  the  Great  Campaign:  and  who  knows  it 
better  than  I,  sir  ?  It's  climbing  the  greasy  pole  for  the 
leg  o'  mutton,  that  makes  the  mother's  heart  ache  for  the 
jacket  and  the  nether  garments  she  mended  neatly,  if  she 
didn't  make  them.  Mutton  or  no  mutton,  there's  grease  for 
certain !  Since  it's  sure  we  can't  be  disconnected  from  the 
family,  the  trick  is  to  turn  the  misfortune  to  a  profit ;  and 
allow  me  the  observation,  that  an  old  family,  sir,  and  a  high 
and  titled  family,  is  not  to  be  despised  for  a  background  of 
a  portrait  in  naval  nniform,  with  medal  and  clasps,  and 
some  small  smoke  of  powder  clearing  off  over  thei-e  : — that's 
if  we're  to  act  sagaciously  in  introducing  an  unknown  candi- 
date to  a  borough  that  has  a  sneaking  liking  for  the  kind  of 
person,  more  honour  to  it.  I'm  a  political  veteran,  sir  ;  I 
speak  from  experience.  We  must  employ  our  weapons, 
every  one  of  them,  and  all  off  the  grindstone." 

"  Very  well,"   said  Beachamp.     "  Now   understand  j  you 

I 


114  BE AUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

are  not  in  future  to  employ  tlie  weapons,  as  yon  call  them, 
that  I  have  objected  to." 
Timoth}"  gaped  slio-htly. 

"  Whatever  you  will,  but  no  puffery,"  Beauchamp  added. 
"  Can  T  b}^  any  means  arrest — purchase — is  it  possible,  telL 
me,  to  lay  an  embargo — stop  to-day's  issue  of  the  Gazette  .''" 

"  No  more  than  the  bite  of  a  mad  dog,"  Timothy  replied, 
before  he  had  considered  upon  the  monstrous  nature  of  the 
proposal. 

Beauchamp  humphed,  and  tossed  his  head.  The  simile  of 
the  dog  struck  him  with  intense  effect. 

"  There'd  be  a  second  edition,"  said  Timothy,  "  and  you 
might  buy  up  that.  But  there'll  be  a  third,  and  you  may 
buy  up  that ;  but  there'll  be  a  fourth  and  a  fifth,  and  so  on 
ad  infinitum,  with  the  advertisement  of  the  sale  of  the  fore- 
going creating  a  demand  like  a  raging  thirst  in  a  shipwreck, 
in  Bligh's  boat,  in  the  tropics.  I'm  afraid  Com — Captain 
Beauchamp,  sir,  there's  no  stopping  the  Press  while  the 
people  have  an  appetite  for  it — and  a  Company's  at  the  back 
of  it." 

"  Pooh,  don't  talk  to  me  in  that  way  ;  all  I  complain  of  is 
the  figure  you  have  made  of  me,"  said  Beauchamp,  fetching 
him  smartly  out  of  his  nonsense  ;  "  and  all  I  ask  of  you  is  not 
to  be  at  it  again.  Who  would  suppose  from  reading  an 
article  like  that,  that  I  am  a  candidate  with  a  single  political 
idea  !" 

"  An  article  like  that,"  said  Timothy,  winking,  and  a 
little  surer  of  his  man  now  that  he  suggested  his  possession 
of  ideas,  "  an  article  like  that  is  the  best  cloak  you  can  put 
on  a  candidate  with  too  many  of  'em.  Captain  Beauchamp. 
I'll  tell  you,  sir;  I  came,  I  heard  of  your  candidature,  I  had 
your  sketch,  the  pattern  of  ye,  before  me,  and  I  was  told 
that  Dr.  Shrapnel  fathered  you  politically.  There  was  my 
brief !  I  had  to  persuade  our  constituents  that  you.  Com- 
mander Beauchamp  of  the  Royal  i^avy,  and  the  great  family 
of  the  Earls  of  Romfrey,  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  war,  and  the 
recipient  of  a  Royal  Humane  Society's  medal  for  saving  life  in 
Bevisham  waters,  were  something  more  than  the  Radical 
doctor's  political  son;  and,  sir,  it  was  to  this  end,  aim,  and 
object,  that  I  wrote  the  article  I  am  not  ashamed  to  avow  as 
mine,  and  I  do  so,  sir,  because  of  the  solitary  merit  it  has  of 
serving  your  political  interests  as  the  Liberal  candidate  for 


THE  LEADING  AETICLE.  1  15 

BevisTiam  by  coTinteracting  tlie  unpopularitT  of  Dr.  Shrap- 
nel's name,  on  the  one  part,  and  of  reviving  the  credit  due 
to  yonr  valour  and  high  bearing  on  the  field  of  battle  in 
defence  of  your  country,  on  the  other,  so  that  Bevisham 
may  apprehend,  in  spite  of  party  distinctions,  that  it  has  the 
option,  and  had  better  seize  upon  the  honour,  of  making  a 
M.P.  of  a  hero." 

Beauchamp  interposed  hastily :  "  Thank  yon,  thank  you 
for  the  best  of  intentions.  But  let  me  tell  you  I  am  prepared 
to  stand  or  fall  with  Dr.  Shrapnel,  and  be  hanged  to  all  that 
humbug." 

Timothy  nibbed  his  hands  with  an  absti^acted  air  of 
washing.  "  Well,  commander,  well,  sir,  they  say  a  candi- 
date's to  be  humoured  in  his  infancy,  for  he  has  to  do  all  the 
humouring  before  he's  many  weeks  old  at  it ;  only  there's 
the  fact ! — he  soon  fi^nds  out  he  has  to  pay  for  his  first  fling, 
like  the  son  of  a  family  sowing  his  oats  to  reap  his  Jews. 
Credit  me,  sir,  I  thought  it  prudent  to  counteract  a  bit  of  an 
apothecary's  shop  odour  in  the  junior  Liberal  candidate's 
address.  T  found  the  town  sniffing,  they  scented  Shrapnel 
in  the  composition." 

"  Every  line  of  it  was  mine,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"  Of  course  it  was,  and  the  address  was  admirably  worded, 
sir,  I  make  bold  to  say  it  to  your  face;  but  most  indubitably 
it  threatened  powerful  drugs  for  weak  stomachs,  and  it  blew 
cold  on  votes,  which  are  sensitive  plants  like  nothing  else  in 
botany." 

"If  they  are  only  to  be  got  by  abandoning  principles,  and 
by  anything  but  honesty  in  stating  them,  they  may  go,"  said 
Beauchamp. 

"  I  repeat,  my  dear  sir,  I  repeat,  the  infant  candidate 
delights  in  his  honesty,  like  the  babe  in  its  nakedness,  the 
beautiful  virgin  in  her  innocence.  So  he  does  ;  but  he  dis- 
covers it's  time  for  him  to  wear  clothes  in  a  contested 
election.  And  what's  that  but  to  preserve  the  outlines 
pretty  correctly,  whilst  he  doesn't  shock  and  horrify  the 
optics  ?  A  dash  of  conventionalism  makes  the  whole  civilized 
world  kin,  ye  know.  That's  the  truth.  You  must  appear  to 
be  one  of  them,  for  them  to  choose  yon.  After  all,  there's 
no  harm  in  a  dyer's  hand ;  and  sir,  a  candidate  looking  at 
his  own,  when  he  has  won  the  Election  ...    ." 

**  Ah,  well,"  said  Beauchamp,  swinging  on  his  heel,  "  and 

i2 


116. 

now  I'll  take  my  leave  of  you,  and  I  apologize  for  bringing 
you  down  here  so  early.  Please  attend  to  what  I  have  said ; 
it's  peremptory.  You  will  give  me  great  pleasure  by  dining 
with  me  to-night,  at  the  hotel  opposite.  Will  you  ?  I  don't 
know  what  kind  of  wine  I  shall  be  able  to  offer  you.  Per- 
haps you  know  the  cellar,  and  may  help  me  in  that.'' 

Timothy  gi^asped  his  hand,  "  With  pleasure,  Commander 
Beauchamp.  They  have  a  bucellas  over  there  that's  old, 
and  a  tolerable  claret,  and  a  Port  to  be  inquired  for  under 
the  breath,  in  a  mysteriously  intimate  tone  of  voice,  as  one 
says,  '  I  know  of  your  treasure,  and  the  corner  under  giound 
where  it  lies.'  Avoid  the  champagne :  'tis  the  banqueting 
wine.  Ditto  the  sherry.  One  can  drink  them,  one  can 
drink  them." 

"  At  a  quarter  to  eight  this  evening,  then,"  said  Nevil. 

"  I'll  be  there  at  the  stroke  of  the  clock,  sure  as  the  date 
of  a  bill,"  said  Timothy. 

And  it's  early  to  guess  whether  you'll  catch  Bevisham 
or  you  won't,  he  reflected,  as  he  gazed  at  the  young  gentle- 
man crossing  the  road ;  but  female  Bevisham's  with  you, 
if  that  counts  for  much.  Timothy  confessed  that,  without 
the  employment  of  any  weapon  save  arrogance  and  a  look  of 
candour,  the  commander  had  gone  some  way  toward  catching 
the  feminine  side  of  himself. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

CECILIA     HALKKTT 


Beauchamp  walked  down  to  the  pier,  where  he  took  a  boat 
for  H.M.S.  Ms,  to  see  Jack  Wilmore,  whom  he  had  not  met 
since  his  return  from  his  last  craise,  and  first  he  tried  the 
efficacy  of  a  dive  in  salt  water,  as  a  specific  for  irritation. 
It  gave  the  edge  to  a  fine  appetite  that  he  continued  to 
satisfy  while  Wilmore  talked  of  those  famous  dogs  to  which 
the  navy  has  ever  been  going. 

"  We  want  another  panic,  Beauchamp,"  said  Lieutenant 
Wilmore.  "  No  one  knows  better  than  you  what  a  naval 
man  has  to  complain  of,  so  I  hope  you'll  get  your  JBlection,  if 


CECILIA  HALKETT.  117 

onlj  ttat  we  may  reckon  on  a  good  look-ont  for  the  interests 
of  the  service.  A  regular  Board  with  a  permanent  Lord 
High  Admiral,  and  a  regular  vote  of  money  to  keep  it  up  to 
the  mark.  Stick  to  that.  Hardist  has  a  vote  in  Bevisham. 
I  think  I  can  get  one  or  two  more.  Why  aren't  you  a  Tory  ? 
iSo  Whigs  nor  Liberals  look  after  us  half  so  well  as  the 
Tories.  It's  enough  to  break  a  man's  heart  to  see  the  troops 
of  dockyard  workmen  marching  out  as  soon  as  ever  a  Liberal 
Government  marches  in.  Then  it's  one  of  our  infernal 
panics  again,  and  patch  here,  patch  there  ;  every  inch  of  it 
make-believe  !  I'll  prove  to  you  from  examples  that  the 
humbug  of  Government  causes  exactly  the  same  humbugging 
workmanship.  It  seems  as  if  it  were  a  game  of  '  rascals  all.' 
Let  them  sink  us  !  but,  by  heaven !  one  can't  help  feeling  for 
the  country.  And  I  do  say  it's  the  doing  of  those  Liberals. 
Skilled  workmen,  mind  you,  not  to  be  netted  again  so  easily. 

America  reaps  the  benefit  of  our  folly That  was  a 

lucky  run  of  yours  up  the  Niger ;  the  admiral  was  friendly, 
but  you  deserved  your  luck.  For  God's  sake,  don't  forget 
the  state  of  our  service  when  you're  one  of  our  cherubs  up 
aloft,  Beauchamp.  This  I'll  say,  I've  never  heard  a  man 
talk  about  it  as  you  used  to  in  old  midshipmite  days,  whole 
watches  through — don't  you  remember  ?  on  the  North 
American  station,  and  in  the  Black  Sea,  and  the  Meditei-- 
ranean.  And  that  girl  at  Malta  !  I  wonder  what  has  become 
of  her  ?  What  a  beauty  she  was !  I  dare  say  she  wasn't  so 
fine  a  girl  as  the  Armenian  you  unearthed  on  the  Bosphorus, 
but  she  had  something  about  her  a  fellow  can't  forget.  That 
was  a  lovely  creature  coming  down  the  hills  over  Granada 
on  her  mule.  Ay,  we've  seen  handsome  women,  Nevil  Beau- 
champ.  But  you  always  were  lucky,  invariably,  and  I  should 
bet  on  you  for  the  Election." 

"  Canvass  for  me.  Jack,"  said  Beauchamp,  smiling  at  his 
friend's  unconscious  double-skeining  of  subjects.  "  If  I  turn 
out  as  good  a  politician  as  you  are  a  seaman,  I  shall  do. 
Pounce  on  Hardist's  vote  without  losing  a  day.  I  woald  go 
to  him,  but  I've  missed  the  Halketts  twice.  They're  on  the 
Otley  river,  at  a  place  called  Mount  Laurels,  and  I  particu- 
larly want  to  see  the  colonel.  Can  you  give  me  a  boat  there, 
and  come  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Wilmore.  "  I've  danced  there  with  the 
lady,  the  handsomest  girl,  English  style,  of  her  time.     And 


1  1  8  BEAUCHAMP'S  CABEEB. 

come,  come,  our  English  style's  the  best.  It  wears  "best,  it 
looks  best.  Foreign  women  ....  they're  capital  to  flirt 
with.  But  a  girl  like  Cecilia  Halkett — one  can't  call  her  a 
girl,  and  it  won't  do  to  say  Goddess,  and  queen  and  charmer 
are  out  of  the  question,  though  she's  both,  and  angel  into  the 
bargain ;  but,  by  George !  what  a  woman  to  call  wife,  you 
say ;  and  a  man  attached  to  a  woman  like  that  never  can  let 
himself  look  small,  No  such  luck  for  me  ;  only  I  swear  if  I 
stood  between  a  good  and  a  bad  action,  the  thought  of  that 
girl  would  keep  me  straight,  and  I've  only  danced  with  her 
once !" 

Xot  long  after  sketching  this  rough  presentation  of  the 
lady,  with  a  masculine  hand,  Wilmore  was  able  to  point  to 
her  in  person  on  the  deck  of  her  father's  yacht,  the  Espe- 
ranza,  standing  out  of  Otley  river.  There  was  a  gallant 
splendour  in  the  vessel  that  thi^ew  a  touch  of  glory  on  its 
mistress  in  the  minds  of  the  two  young  naval  officers,  as  they 
pulled  for  her  in  the  ship's  gig. 

Wilmore  sung  out,  "  Give  way,  men !" 

The  sailors  bent  to  their  oars,  and  presently  the  scliooner's 
head  was  put  to  the  wind. 

"  She  sees  we're  giving  chase,"  Wilmore  said.  "  She  can't 
be  expecting  me,  so  it  must  be  you.  No,  the  colonel  doesn't 
r.'ice  her.  They've  only  been  back  from  Italy  six  months  :  I 
mean  the  schooner.  I  remember  she  talked  of  you  when  I 
had  her  for  a  partner.  Yes,  now  I  mean  Miss  Halkett. 
Blest  if  1  think  she  talked  of  anything  else.  She  sees  us. 
I'll  tell  you  what  she  likes  :  she  likes  yachting,  she  likes 
Italy,  she  likes  painting,  likes  things  old  English,  awfully 
fond  of  heroes.  I  told  her  a  tale  of  one  of  our  men  saving 
life.  '  Oh  ''  said  she,  '  didn't  your  friend  Nevil  Beauchamp 
save  a  man  from  drowning,  off  the  guardship,  in  exactly  the 
same  place  ?'  And  next  day  she  sent  me  a  cheque  for  three 
pounds  for  the  fellow.     Steady,  men!     I  keep  her  letter." 

The  boat  went  smoothly  alongside  the  schooner.  Miss 
Halkett  had  come  to  the  side.  The  oars  swung  fore  and  aft, 
and  Beauchamp  sprang  on  deck. 

Wilmore  had  to  decline  Miss  Halkett's  invitation  to  him 
as  well  as  his  friend,  and  returned  in  his  boat.  He  left  the 
pair  with  a  ruffling  breeze,  and  a  sky  all  sail,  prepared,  it 
seemed  to  him,  to  enjoy  the  most  delicious  you-and-I  on  salt 
water  that  a  sailor  could  dream  of;  and  placidly  envying, 


CECILIA  HALKETT.  119 

devoid  of  jealousy,  there  was  just  enough  of  fancy  quickened 
in  Lieutenant  Wilmore  to  give  him  pictures  of  them  without 
disturbance  of  his  feelings — one  of  the  conditions  of  the 
singular  visitation  we  call  happiness,  if  he  could  have 
known  it. 

For  a  time  his  visionary  eye  followed  them  pretty  cor- 
rectly. So  long  since  they  had  parted  last!  such  changes  in 
the  interval !  and  great  animation  in  Beauchamp's  gaze,  and 
a  blush  on  Miss  Halkett's  cheeks. 

She  said  once,  "  Captain  Beauchamp."  He  retorted  with 
a  solemn  formality.  They  smiled,  and  immediately  took 
footing  on  their  previous  intimacy. 

"  How  good  it  was  of  you  to  come  twice  to  Mount 
Laurels,"  said  she.  "  I  have  not  missed  you  to-day.  No 
address  was  on  your  card.  Where  are  you  staying  in  the 
neighbourhood  ?     At  Mr.  Lespel's  ?" 

"  I'm  staying  at  a  Bevisham  hotel,"  said  Beauchamp. 

''  You  have  not  been  to  Steynham  yet  ?  Papa  comes 
home  from  Steynham  to-night." 

"  Does  he  ?     Well,  the  Ariadne  is  only  just  paid  off,  and  I 

can't  well  go  to   Steynham  yet.     I "    Beauchamp  was 

ast(niished  at  the  hesitation  he  found  in  himself  to  name  it : 
"  I  have  business  in  Bevisham." 

"  IS'aval  business  ?"  she  remarked. 

"  No,"  said  he. 

The  sensitive  presciencfe  we  have  of  a  critical  distaste  of 
our  proceedings  is,  the  world  is  aware,  keener  than  our 
intuition  of  contrary  opinions;  and  for  the  sake  of  preserv- 
ing the  sweet  outward  forms  of  friendliness,  Beauchamp  was 
anxious  not  to  speak  of  the  business  in  Bevisham  just  then, 
but  she  looked  and  he  had  hesitated,  so  he  said  flatly,  "  I  am 
one  of  the  candidates  for  the  borough." 

"  Indeed  1" 

"  And  I  want  the  colonel  to  give  me  his  vote." 

The  young  lady  breathed  a  melodious  "  Oh !"  not  con- 
demnatory or  reproachful — a  sound  to  fill  a  pause.  But  she 
was  beginning  to  reflect. 

"  Italy  and  our  English  Channel  are  my  two  Poles,"  she 
said.  "  I  am  constantly  swaying  between  them.  I  have 
told  papa  we  will  not  lay  up  the  yacht  while  the  weather 
holds  fair.  Except  for  the  absence  of  deep  colour  and  bright 
colour,  what  can  be  more  beautiful  than  these  green  waves 


120  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

and  that  dark  forest's  edge,  and  the  garden  of  an  island  ! 
The  yachting- water  here  is  an  unrivalled  lake ;  and  if  I  miss 
colonr,  which  I  love,  I  remind  myself  that  we  have  temperate 
air  here,  not  a  sun  that  sends  you  under  cover.  We  can  have 
our  fruits  too,  you  see."  One  of  the  yachtsmen  was  handing 
her  a  basket  of  hothouse  grapes,  reclining  beside  crisp  home- 
made loaflets.  "  This  is  my  luncheon.  Will  you  share  it, 
N'evil  ?" 

His  Christian  name  was  pleasant  to  hear  from  her  lips. 
She  held  out  a  bunch  to  him. 

"  Grapes  take  one  back  to  the  South,"  said  he.  "  How  do 
you  bear  compliments  ?  You  have  been  in  Italy  some  years, 
and  it  must  be  the  South  that  has  worked  the  miracle." 

"  In  my  growth  P"  said  Cecilia,  smiling.  "  I  have  grown 
out  of  nfiy  Circassian  dress,  Nevil.'* 

"  You  received  it,  then  ?" 

"  I  wrote  you  a  letter  of  thanks — and  abuse,  for  your  not 
coming  to  Steynham.     You  may  recognize  the.se  pearls." 

The  pearls  were  round  her  right  wrist.  He  looked  at  the 
blue  veins. 

"  They're  not  pearls  of  price,"  he  said. 

"I  do  not  wear  them  to  fascinate  the  jewellers,"  rejoined 
Miss  Halkett.  "  So  you  are  a  candidate  at  an  Election. 
You  still  have  a  tinge  of  Afi'ica,  do  you  know  ?  But  you 
have  not  abandoned  the  navy  ?" 

"  Not  altogether." 

"  Oh  !  no,  no  :  I  hope  not.  I  have  heard  of  you,  .  .  .  but 
who  has  not  ?  We  cannot  spare  officers  like  you.  Papa  was 
delighted  to  hear  of  your  promotion.     Parliament  !" 

The  exclamation  was  contemptuous. 

"  It's  the  highest  we  can  aim  at,"  Beauchamp  observed 
meekly. 

"  I  think  I  recollect  you  used  to  talk  politics  when  you 
were  a  midshipman,"  she  said.  "  You  headed  the  aristocracy, 
did  you  not  ?" 

"  The  aristocracy  wants  a  head,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"  Parliament,  in  my  opinion,  is  the  best  of  occupations  for 
idle  men,"  said  she. 

"  It  shows  that  it  is  a  little  too  full  of  them." 

"  Surely  the  country  can  go  on  verj  well  without  so  mucli 
speech-making  ?" 

*'  It  can  go  on  very  well  for  the  rich." 


CECILIA  HALKETT,  121 

Miss  Halkett  tapped  with  her  foot. 

"  I  should  expect  a  Radical  to  talk  in  that  way,  Nevil." 

"  Take  me  for  one." 

**  I  would  not  even  imagine  it." 

"  Say  Liberal,  then." 

"  Are  you  not " — her  eyes  opened  on  him  largely,  and  nar- 
rowed from  surprise  to  reproach,  and  then  to  pain — "  are  you 
not  one  of  us  ?     Have  you  gone  over  to  the  enemy,  Xevil  ?" 

"  I  have  taken  my  side,  Cecilia  ;  but  we,  on  our  side,  don't 
talk  of  an  enemy." 

"  Most  unfortunate  !  We  are  Tories,  you  know,  jN^evil. 
Papa  is  a  thorough  Tory.  He  cannot  vote  for  you.  Indeed 
I  have  heard  him  say  he  is  anxious  to  defeat  the  plots  of  an 
old  Republican  in  Bevisham — some  doctor  there ;  and  I 
believe  he  went  to  London  to  look  out  for  a  second  Tory  can- 
didate to  oppose  to  the  Liberals.  Our  present  Member  is 
quite  safe,  of  course.  Nevil,  this  makes  me  unhappy.  Do 
you  not  feel  that  it  is  playing  traitor  to  one's  class  to  join 
those  men  ?" 

Such  was  the  Tory  way  of  thinking,  Nevil  Beauchamp 
said :  the  Tories  upheld  their  Toryism  in  the  place  of 
patriotism. 

"  But  do  we  not  owe  the  grandeur  of  the  country  to  the 
Tories  ?"  she  said,  with  a  lovely  air  of  conviction.  "  Papa 
has  told  me  how  false  the  Whigs  played  the  Duke  in  the 
Peninsula  :  ruining  his  supplies,  writing  him  down,  declaring, 
all  the  time  he  was  fighting  his  first  hard  battles,  that  his 
cause  was  hopeless — that  resistance  to  Napoleon  was  impos- 
sible. The  Duke  never,  never  had  loyal  support  but  from 
the  Tory  Government.  The  Whigs,  papa  says,  absolutely 
preached  submission  to  N'apoleon  !  The  Whigs,  I  hear,  wei-e 
the  Liberals  of  those  days.  The  two  Pitts  were  Tories.  The 
greatness  of  England  has  been  built  up  by  the  Tories.  I  do 
and  will  defend  them  :  it  is  the  fashion  to  decry  them  now. 
They  have  the  honour  and  safety  of  the  country  at  heart. 
They  do  not  play  disgracefully  at  reductions  of  taxes,  as  the 
Liberals  do.  They  have  given  us  all  our  heroes.  ISTon  fu 
mai  gloria  senza  invidia.  They  have  done  service  enough 
to  despise  the  envious  mob.  They  never  condescend  to  sup- 
plicate brute  force  for  aid  to  crush  their  opponents.  You 
feel  in  all  they  do  that  the  instincts  of  gentlemen  are 
active.*' 


122  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Beauchamp  bowed. 

"  Do  I  speak  too  warmly  ?"  she  asked.  "  Papa  and  I  have 
talked  over  it  often,  and  especially  of  late.  You  will  find 
him  your  delighted  host  and  your  inveterate  opponent." 

"And  you  ?"   ' 

"  Just  the  same.  You  will  have  to  pardon  me ;  1  am  a 
terrible  foe." 

"  I  declare  to  you,  Cecilia,  I  would  prefer  having  3-0U 
against  me  to  having  you  indifferent." 

"  I  wish  I  had  not  to  think  it  right  that  you  should  be 
beaten.  And  now — can  you  throw  ofr  political  Xevil,  and  be 
sailor  Nevil  ?  I  distinguish  between  my  old  friend,  and 
my  .  .  .  our  .  .  ." 

"  Dreadful  antagonist  ?" 

"  Not  so  dreadful,  except  in  the  shock  he  gives  us  to  find 
him  in  the  opposite  ranks.  I  am  grieved.  But  we  will  fiiiisli 
our  sail  in  peace.  I  detest  controversy.  I  suppose,  Nevil, 
you  would  have  no  such  things  as  yachts  ?  they  are  the 
enjoyments  of  the  rich  !" 

lie  reminded  her  that  she  wished  to  finish  her  sail  in 
peace ;  and  he  had  to  remind  her  of  it  more  than  once.  Her 
scattered  resources  for  argumentation  sprang  uj^  from  various 
suggestions,  such  as  the  flight  of  yachts,  mention  of  the 
shooting  season,  sight  of  a  royal  palace ;  and  adopted  a  con- 
tinually heightened  satirical  form,  oddly  intermixed  with  an 
undisguised  aliectionate  friendliness.  Apparently  she  thought 
it  possible  to  worry  him  out  of  his  adhesion  to  the  wrong 
side  in  politics.  She  certainly  had  no  conception  of  the 
nature  of  his  political  views,  for  one  or  two  extreme  pi-opo- 
sitions  flung  to  him  in  jest,  he  swallowed  with  every  sign  of 
a  perfect  facility,  as  if  the  Radical  had  come  to  regard 
stupendous  questions  as  morsels  barely  sufficient  for  his  daily 
sustenance.  Cecilia  reflected  that  he  must  be  playing,  and  . 
as  it  was  not  a  subject  for  play  she  tacitly  i-eproved  him  by 
letting  him  be  the  last  to  speak  of  it.  He  may  not  have  been 
susceptible  to  the  delicate  chastisement,  pi-obably  was  not, 
for  when  he  ceased  it  was  to  look  on  the  beauty  of  her 
lo^vered  eyelids,  lather  with  an  idea  that  the  weight  of  his 
ai-gument  lay  on  ihem.  It  breathed  from  him  ;  both  in  the 
department  of  logic  and  of  feeling,  in  his  plea  for  the  poor 
man  and  his  exposition  of  the  poor  man's  rightful  claims,  he 
evidently  imagined  that  he  had  spoken  overwhelmingly  ;  and 


CECILIA  HALKETT.  123 

to  undeceive  liim  in  this  respect,  for  his  own  good,  Cecilia 
calmlv  awaited  tbe  occasion  when  she  mic'ht  show  the  vanity 
of  arguments  in  their  efl'oi't  to  ovei'conie  convictions.  He 
stood  up  to  take  his  leave  of  her,  on  their  return  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Otley  river,  unexpectedly,  so  that  the  occasion  did  not 
arrive ;  but  on  his  mentioning  an  engagement  he  had  to  give 
a  dinner  to  a  journalist  and  a  tradesman  of  the  town  of 
Bevisham,  by  way  of  excuse  for  not  complying  with  her 
gentle  entreaty  that  he  would  go  to  Mount  Laurels  and  wait 
to  see  the  colonel  that  evening,  "  Oh  !  then  your  choice  must 
be  made  irrevocably,  I  am  sure,"  Miss  Halkett  said,  relying 
upon  intonation  aud  manner  to  convey  a  great  deal  more, 
and  not  without  a  minor  touch  of  resentment  for  his  having 
dragged  her  into  t  he  discussion  of  politics,  which  she  con- 
sidered as  a  slime  wherein  men  hustled  and  tussled,  no  doubt 
worthily  enough,  and  as  became  them  ;  not  however  to  impose 
the  strife  upon  the  elect  ladies  of  earth.  What  gentleman 
ever  did  talk  to  a  young  lady  upon  the  dreary  topic  seriously  ? 
Least  of  all  should  Xevil  Beauchamp  have  done  it.  That 
object  of  her  high  imagination  belonged  to  the  exquisite 
sphere  of  the  feminine  vision  of  the  pure  poetic,  and  she  was 
vexed  by  the  discord  he  threw  between  her  long-cherished 
dream  and  her  unanticipated  realization  of  him  :  if  indeed  it 
was  he  presenting  himself  to  her  in  his  own  character,  and 
not  trifling,  or  not  passing  through  a  phase  of  young  man's 
madness. 

Possibly  he  might  be  the  victim  of  the  latter  and  more 
pardonable  state,  and  so  thinking  she  gave  him  her  hand. 

"  Good-bye,  Nevil.  I  may  tell  papa  to  expect  you  to- 
morrow ?" 

"  Do,  and  tell  him  to  prepare  for  a  tield-day." 

She  smiled.  "  A  sham  fight  that  will  not  win  you  a  vote  ! 
I  hope  you  will  find  your  guests  this  evening  agreeable  com- 
panions." 

Beauchamp  half-shrugged  involuntarily.  He  obliterated 
the  piece  of  treason  toward  them  by  saying  that  he  hoped 
so  ;  as  though  the  meeting  them,  instead  of  slipping  on  to 
Mount  Laurels  with  her,  were  an  enjoyable  prospect. 

He  was  dropped  by  the  Esperanzas  boat  near  Otley  ferry, 
to  walk  along  the  beach  to  Bevisham,  and  he  kept  eye  on 
the  elegant  vessel  as  she  glided  swan-like  to  her  moorings  o:ff 
Mount  Laurels  park  through  dusky  merchant  craft,  colliers, 


124  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

and  trawlers,  loosely  shaking  her  towering  snow-white  sails, 
unchallenged  in  her  scornful  supremacy ;  an  image  of  a 
refinement  of  beauty,  and  of  a  beautiful  servicelessness. 

As  the  yacht,  so  the  mistress  :  things  of  wealth,  owing 
their  graces  to  wealth,  devoting  them  to  wealth — splendid 
achievements  of  art  both  !  and  dedicated  to  the  gratification 
of  the  superior  senses. 

Say  that  they  were  precious  examples  of  an  accomplished 
civilization  ;  and  perhaps  they  did  offer  a  visible  ideal  of 
grace  for  the  rough  world  to  aim  at.  They  might  in  the 
abstract  address  a  bit  of  a  monition  to  the  uncultivated,  and 
encourage  the  soul  to  strive  toward  perfection  in  beauty: 
and  there  is  no  contesting  the  value  of  beauty  when  the  soul 
is  taken  into  account.  But  were  they  not  in  too  great  a  pro- 
fusion in  proportion  to  their  utility  ?  That  was  the  question 
for  Nevil  Beauchanip.  The  democratic  spirit  inhabiting  him, 
temporarily  or  permanently,  asked  whether  they  were  not 
increasing  to  numbers  which  were  oppressive  ?  And  further, 
wlicther  it  was  good  for  the  country,  the  race,  ay,  the  species, 
,,  that  they  should  be  so  distinctly  removed  from  the  thousands 
,  who  fought  the  grand,  and  the  grisly,  old  battle  with  nature 
/  for  bread  of  life.  Those  grimy  sails  of  the  colliers  and  iish- 
ing-smacks,  set  them  in  a  great  sea,  would  have  beauty  for 
eyes  and  soul  beyond  that  of  elegance  and  refinement.  And 
do  but  look  on  them  thoughtfully,  the  poor  are  everlastingly, 

unrelievedly,  in  the  abysses  of  the  great  sea 

One  cannot  pursue  to  conclusions  a  line  of  meditation 
that  is  half-built  on  the  sensations  as  well  as  on  the  mind. 
Did  Beauchamp  at  all  desire  to  have  those  idly  lovely  adorn- 
ments of  riches,  the  Yacht  and  the  Lady,  swept  away  ?  Oh, 
dear  no.  He  admired  them,  he  was  at  home  with  them. 
They  were  much  to  his  taste.  Standing  on  a  point  of  the 
beach  for  a  last  look  at  them  before  he  set  his  face  to  the 
town,  he  prolonged  the  look  in  a  manner  to  indicate  that  the 
place  where  business  called  him  was  not  in  comparison  at  all 
so  pleasing  :  and  just  as  little  enjoyable  were  his  meditations 
opposed  to  predilections.  Beauty  plucked  the  heart  from 
his  breast.  But  he  had  taken  up  arms  ;  he  had  drunk  of  the 
questioning  cup,  that  ^n  hich  denieth  peace  to  us,  and  which 
pro;  ^ts  us  upon  the  missionary  search  of  the  How,  the 
Wherefore,  and  the  Why  not,  ever  afterward.  He  ques- 
tioned his  justification,  and  yours,  for  gratifying  tastes  in 


BEAUCHAMP  IN  HIS  COLOURS.  1  25 

an  ill-regnlated  world  of  wrong- doing,  suffering,  sin,  and 
bounties  unrighteously  dispensed — not  sufficiently  dispersed. 
He  said  by-and-by  to  pleasure,  battle  to-day.  From  his  point 
of  observation,  and  with  the  store  of  ideas  and  images  his 
fiery  yet  reflective  youth  had  gathered,  he  presented  himself 
as  it  were  saddled  to  that  hard- riding  force  known  as  the 
logical  impetus,  which  spying  its  quarry  over  precipices, 
across  oceans  and  deserts,  and  through  systems  and  webs, 
and  into  shops  and  cabinets  of  costliest  china,  will  come  at 
it,  will  not  be  refused,  let  the  distances  and  the  breakages 
be  what  they  may.  He  went  like  the  mc?teoric  man  with 
the  mechanical  legs  in  the  song,  too  quick  for  a  cry  of  pro- 
testation, and  rtjached  results  amazing  to  his  instincts, 
his  tastes,  and  his  training,  not  less  rapidly  and  naturally- 
than  tremendous  Ergo  is  shot  forth  from  the  clash  of  a 
syllogism. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  PA-RTIAL  DISPLAY  OF  BEAUCHAMP  IN  HIS  COLOURS. 

BEA.UCHAMP  presented  himself  at  Mount  Laui-els  next  day, 
and  formally  asked  Colonel  Halkett  for  his  vote,  in  the  pre- 
sence of  Cecilia. 

She  took  it  for  a  playful  glance  at  his  new  profession  of 
politician:  he  spoke  half-playfully.  Was  it  possible  to  speak 
in  earnest  ? 

"  I'm  of  the  opposite  party,"  said  the  colonel :  as  conclu- 
sive a  reply  as  could  be  :  but  he  at  once  fell  upon  the  rotten 
navy  of  a  Liberal  Government.  How  could  a  ti-ue  sailor 
think  of  joining  those  Liberals  !  The  question  referred  to 
the  country,  not  to  a  section  of  it,  Beauchamp  protested  with 
impending  emphasis  :  Tories  and  Liberals  were  much  the 
same  in  regard  to  the  care  of  the  navy.  "JN'evil!"  exclaimed 
Cecilia.  He  cited  beneficial  Liberal  bills  recently  passed, 
which  she  accepted  for  a  concession  of  the  navy  to  the 
Tories,  and  she  smiled.  In  spite  of  her  dislike  of  politics, 
she  had  only  to  listen  a  few  minutes  to  be  drawn  into  the 
contest :  and  thus  it  is  that  one  hot  politiciaj]^_inakes  many 

V*  OF    THK  'r 

UNIVERSITY 


126  BEAUCH amp's  CAREER. 

among  women  and  men  of  a  people  that  have  the  genius  of 
strife,  or  else  in  this  case  the  young  lady  did  unconsciously 
feel  a  deep  interest  in  refuting  and  overcoming  Xevil  Beau- 
champ.  Colonel  Halkett  denied  the  benefits  of  those  bills. 
"  Look,"  said  he,  "  at  the  scarecrow  plight  of  the  army  under 
a  Liberal  Government  !"  This  laid  him  open  to  the  charge 
that  he  was  for  backing  Administrations  instead  of  principles, 

"  I  do,"  said  the  colonel.  "  T  would  rather  have  a  good 
Administration  than  all  your  talk  of  principles  :  one's  a  fact, 
but  principles  ?  pi-inciples  ?"  He  languished  for  a  phrase 
to  describe  the  hazy  things.  "  I  have  mine,  and  you  have 
yours.  It's  like  a  dispute  between  religions.  There's  no 
settling  it  except  by  main  force.  That's  Avhat  principles 
lead  you  to." 

Principles  may  be  hazy,  but  heavy  aitillery  is  disposable 
in  defence  of  them,  and  Beauchamp  fired  some  revei-berating 
guns  for  the  eternal  against  the  transitory  ; — with  less  of 
the  gentlemanly  fine  taste,  the  light  and  easy  social  semi- 
irony,  than  Cecilia  liked  and  would  have  expected  from  him. 
However,  as  to  principles,  no  doubt  Nevil  was  right,  and 
Cecilia  drew  her  father  to  another  position.  "  Are  not  we 
Tories  to  have  principles  as  well  as  the  Liberals,  Nevil  ?" 

"  They  may  have  what  they  call  principles,"  he  admitted, 
intent  on  pursuing  his  advantage  over  the  colonel,  who  said, 
to  shorten  the  controversy :  "  It's  a  question  of  my  vote, 
and  my  liking.  I  like  a  Tory  Government,  and  I  don't  like 
the  Liberals.  I  like  gentlemen  ;  I  don't  like  a  party  that 
attacks  everything,  and  beats  up  the  mob  for  power,  and 
repays  it  with  sops,  and  is  dragging  us  down  from  all  we 
were  proud  of." 

"  But  the  country  is  growing,  the  country  wants  expan- 
sion," said  Beauchamp ;  "  and  if  your  gentlemen  by  birth 
are  not  up  to  the  mark,  you  must  have  leaders  that  are." 

"  Leaders  who  cut  dow^n  expenditure,  to  create  a  panic 
that  doubles  the  outlay  !     I  know  them." 

"  A  'panic,  ISTevil."  Cecilia  threw  stress  on  the  memorable 
word. 

He  would  hear  no  reminder  in  it.  The  internal  condition 
of  the  country  was  now  the  point  for  seriously-minded 
Englishmen. 

"  My  dear  boy,  what  liave  you  seen  of  the  country  ?" 
Colonel  Halkett  inquired. 


BEAUCHAMP  IN  HIS  COLOURS.  127 

"Every  time  I  have  landed,  colonel,  I  have  gone  to  the 
mining  and  the  manufacturing  districts,  the  centres  of 
industry;  wherever  there  was  dissa^^isl'action.  I  have 
attended  meetings,  to  see  and  hear  for  myself.  I  have  read 
the  papers " 

"  The  papers !" 

"  Well,  they're  the  mirror  of  the  country." 

"  Does  one  see  everything  in  a  mirror,  Nevil  ?"  said 
Cecilia  :  "  even  in  the  smoothest  ?" 

He  retorted  softly  :  "  I  should  be  glad  to  see  what  yon 
see,"  and  felled  her  with  a  blush. 

For  an  example  of  the  mirror  offered  by  the  Press, 
Colonel  Halkett  touched  on  Mr.  Timothy  Turbot's  article 
in  eulogy  of  the  great  Commander  Beauchamp.  "  Did  yoa 
like  it  ?"  he  asked.  "  Ah,  but  if  you  meddle  with  politics, 
you  must  submit  to  be  held  up  on  the  prongs  of  a  fork,  my 
boy;  soaped  by  your  backers  and  shaved  by  the  foe;  and 
there's  a  figure  for  a  gentleman !  as  your  uncle  Romfrey 
sajs." 

Cecilia  did  not  join  this  discussion,  though  she  had  heard 
from  her  father  that  something  grotesque  had  been  written 
of  Nevil.  Her  foolishness  in  blushing  vexed  body  and 
mind.  She  was  incensed  by  a  silly  compliment  that  struck 
at  her  feminine  nature  when  her  intellect  stood  in  arms. 
Yet  more  hurt  was  she  by  the  reflection  that  a  too  lively 
sensibility  might  have  conjured  up  the  idea  of  the  compli- 
ment. And  again,  she  wondered  at  herself  for  not  resent- 
ing so  rare  a  presumption  as  it  implied,  and  not  disdaining 
so  outworn  a  form  of  flattery.  She  wondered  at  herself  too 
for  thinking  of  resentment  and  disdain  in  relation  to  the 
familiar  commonplaces  of  licensed  impertinence.  Over  all 
which  hung  a  darkened  image  of  her  spirit  of  independence, 
like  a  moon  in  eclipse. 

Where  lay  his  weakness  ?  Evidently  in  the  belief  that 
he  had  thought  profoundly.  But  what  minor  item  of  insufii- 
ciency  or  feebleness  was  discernible  ?  She  discovered  that 
he  could  be  easily  fretted  by  similes  and  metaphors:  they 
set  him  staggering  and  groping  like  an  ancient  knight  of 
faery  in  a  forest  bewitched. 

"  Your  specific  for  the  country  is,  then,  Radicalism,"  she 
said,  after  listening  to  an  attack  on.  the  Tories  for  their 
want  of  a  policy  and  indiffei-ence  to  the  union  of  classes. 


128  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  I  would  prescribe  a  course  of  it,  Cecilia ;  yes,*'  he 
turned  to  her. 

"  The  Dr.  Dulcamara  of  a  single  drug  ?" 

"Now  you  have  a  name  for  me!  Tory  arguments  always 
come  to  ej^ithets." 

"It  should  not  be  objectionable.  Is  it  not  honest  to  pre- 
tend to  have  only  one  cure  for  mortal  maladies  ?  There 
can  hardly  be  two  panaceas,  can  there  be  ?" 

"  So  you  call  me  quack  ?" 

"  No,  Nevil,  no,"  she  breathed  a  rich  contralto  note  of 
denial :  "  but  if  the  country  is  the  patient,  and  you  will 
have  it  swallow  your  prescription.   .   .   ." 

"  There's  nothing  like  a  metaphor  for  an  evasion,"  said 
Nevil,  blinking  over  it. 

She  drew  him  another  analogy,  longer  than  was  at  all 
necessary;  so  tedious  that  her  father  struck  through  it 
with  the  remark  : 

"Concerning  that  quack — that's  one  in  the  background, 
though!" 

"  I  know  of  none,"  said  Beaucliamp,  well-advised  enough 
to  forbear  mention  of  the  name  of  Slirapnel. 

Cecilia  petitioned  that  her  stumbling  ignorance,  which 
sought  the  road  of  wisdom,  might  be  heard  out.  She  had  a 
reserve  entanglement  for  her  argumentative  friend.  "  You 
were  saying,  Nevil,  that  you  were  for  principles  rather  than 
for  individuals,  and  you  instanced  Mr,  Cougham,  the  senior 
Liberal  candidate  of  Bevisham,  as  one  Avhom  you  would 
prefer  to  see  in  Parliament  instead  of  Seymour  Austin, 
though  you  confess  to  Mr.  Austin's  far  superior  merits  as  a 
politician  and  servant  of  his  country  :  but  ]\lr.  Cougham 
supports  Liberalism  while  Mr.  Austin  is  a  Tory.  You  are 
for  the  princi]de." 

"  I  am,"  said  he,  bowing. 

She  asked:  "Is  not  that  equivalent  to  the  doctrine  of 
election  by  Grace  ?" 

Beauchamp  interjected  :  "  Grace  !  election  ?" 

Cecilia  was  tender  to  his  inability  to  follow  her  allusion, 

"  Thou  art  a  Liberal — then  rise  to  membership,"  she  said, 
"  Accept  my  creed,  and  thou  art  of  the  chosen.  Yes,  Nevil, 
you  cannot  escape  from  it.  Papa,  he  preaches  Calvinism  in 
politics," 


BEAUCFAMP  IN  HIS  COLOURS.  129 

"We  stick  to  men,  and  good  men,"  the  colonel  flouri'.ihed. 
"Old  English  for  me!" 

"  You  might  as  well  say,  old  timber  vessels,  when  Iron's 
afloat,  colonel." 

"  I  suspect  you  have  the  worst  of  it  there,  papa,"  said 
Cecilia,  taken  by  the  unexpectedness  and  smartness  of  the 
comparison  coming  from  wits  that  she  had  been  under- 
valuing. 

"  I  shall  not  own  I'm  worsted  until  I  surrender  my  vote," 
the  colonel  rejoined. 

"  I  won't  despair  of  it,"  said  Beauchamp. 

Colonel  Halkett  bade  him  come  for  it  as  often  as  he  liked. 
*  You'll  be  beaten  in  Bevisham,  I  warn  you.  Tory  reckon- 
ings are  safest :  it's  an  admitted  fact :  and  tee  know  you  can't 
win.  According  to  my  judgement  a  man  owes  a  duty  to  his 
class." 

"  A  man  owes  a  duty  to  his  class  as  long  as  he  sees  liis 
class  doing  its  duty  to  the  country,"  said  Beauchamp  ;  and 
he  added,  rather  prettily  in  contrast  with  the  sententious 
commencement,  Cecilia  thought,  that  the  apathy  of  his  class 
was  proved  when  such  as  he  deemed  it  an  obligation  on 
them  to  come  forward  and  do  what  little  they  could.  The 
deduction  of  the  proof  was  not  clearly  consequent,  but  a 
meaning  was  expressed  ;  and  in  that  form  it  brought  him 
nearer  to  her  abstract  idea  of  Nevil  Beaucliamp  than  when 
he  raged  and  was  precise. 

After  his  departure  she  talked  of  him  with  her  father,  to 
be  charitably  satirical  over  him,  it  seemed. 

The  critic  in  her  ear  had  pounced  on  his  repetition  of 
certain  words  that  betrayed  a  dialectical  stiffness  and  hinted 
a  narrow  vocabulary:  his  use  of  emphasis,  rather  reminding 
her  of  his  uncle  Everard,  was,  in  a  young  man,  a  little  dis- 
tressing. "  The  ai':athy  of  the  country,  papa;  the  apathy  of 
the  rich  ;  a  state  of  universal  apathy.  Will  you  inform  me, 
papa,  what  the  Tories  are  doing  ?  Do  we  really  give  our 
consciences  to  the  keeping  of  the  parsons  once  a  week,  and 
let  them  dogmatize  for  us  to  save  us  from  exertion  ?  We 
must  attach  ourselves  to  principles  ;  nothing  is  permanent  but 
'principles.  Poor  i^evil !  And  still  I  am  sure  you  have,  as  I 
have,  the  feeling  that  one  must  respect  him.  I  am  quite 
convinced  that  he  supposes  he  is  doing  his  best  to  serve  his 
country    by    trying    for    Parliament,    fancying    himself    a 


130  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Radical.  I  forgot  to  ask  him  whether  he  had  visited  his 
great  aunt,  Mrs.  Beauehamp.  Thej  say  the  dear  old  lady 
has  influence  with  him." 

"  I  don't  think  he's  been  anywhere,"  Colonel  Halkett  half 
laughed  at  the  quaint  fellow.  "  I  wish  the  other  great- 
nephew  of  hers  were  in  England,  for  us  to  run  him  against 
Nevil  Beai3 champ.  He's  touring  the  world.  I'm  told  he's 
orthodox,  and  a  tough  debater.  We  have  to  take  what  we 
can  get." 

"  My  best  washes  for  your  success,  and  you  and  I  will  not 
talk  of  jDolitics  any  more,  papa.  I  hope  Nevil  will  come 
often,  for  his  own  good  ;  he  will  meet  his  own  set  of  people 
here.  And  if  he  should  dogmatize  so  much  as  to  rouse  our 
apathy  to  denounce  his  principles,  we  will  remember  that 
we  are  British,  and  can  be  sweet-blooded  in  opposition.  Per- 
haps he  may  change,  even  tra  le,tre  ore  e  le  quattro  :  elec- 
tioneering should  be  a  lesson.  From  my  recollection  of 
Blackburn  Tuckham,  he  was  a  boisterous  boy." 

"  He  writes  uncommonly  clever  letters  home  to  his  aunt 
Beauehamp.  She  has  handed  them  to  me  to  read,"  said  the 
colonel.  "  I  do  like  to  see  tolerably  solid  young  fellows  : 
they  give  one  some  hope  of  the  stability  of  the  country." 

"  They  are  not  so  interesting  to  study,  and  not  half  so 
amusing,"  said  Cecilia. 

Colonel  Halkett  muttered  his  objections  to  the  sort  of 
amusement  furnished  by  firebrands. 

"  Firebrand  is  too  strong  a  word  for  poor  Nevil,"  she 
remonstrated. 

In  that  estimate  of  the  character  of  Nevil  Beauehamp, 
Cecilia  soon  had  to  confess  that  she  had  been  deceived, 
though  not  by  him. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

HIS    FRIEND    AND    FOE, 


Looking  from  her  window  very  early  on  a  Sunday  momino' 
Miss  Halkett  saw  Beauehamp  strolling  across  the  grass  of 


HIS  FRIEND  AND  FOE.  131 

the  park.  She  dressed  hurriedly  and  went  out  to  gTeet  him, 
smiling  andthan^iing  him  for  his  friendliness  in  coming. 

He  said  he  was  delighted,  and  appeared  so,  but  dashed 
the  sweetness.     "  You  know  I  can't  canvass  on  Sundays." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  she  replied.  "  Have  you  walked  up  from 
Bevisham  r*     You  must  be  tired." 

"  Xothing  tires  me,"  said  he. 

With  that  they  stepped  on  together. 

Mount  Laurels,  a  fair  broad  house  backed  by  a  wood  of 
beeches  and  firs,  lay  open  to  view  on  the  higher  gi'assed 
knoll  of  a  series  of  descending  turfy  mounds  dotted  with 
gorse-clumps,  and  faced  South-westerly  alonff  the  run  of  the 
Otley  river  to  the  gleaming  broad  water  and  its  opposite 
border  of  forest,  beyond  which  the  downs  of  the  island  threw 
long  interlopping  curves.  Great  ships  passed  on  the  line  of 
the  w^ater  to  and  fro ;  and  a  little  mist  of  masts  of  the 
fishing  and  coasting  craft  by  Otley  village,  near  the  river's 
mouth,  was  like  a  web  in  air.  Cecilia  led  him  to  her  dusky 
wood  of  firs,  where  she  had  raised  a  bower  for  a  place  of 
poetical  contemplation  and  reading  when  the  clear  lapping 
salt  river  beneath  her  was  at  high  tide.  She  could  hail  the 
Esperanza  from  that  cover  ;  she  could  step  from  her  drawing- 
room  window,  over  the  flower-beds,  down  the  gravel  walk 
to  the  hard,  and  be  on  board  her  yacht  within  seven  minutes, 
out  on  her  salt  water  lake  Avithin  twenty,  closing  her  wdngs 
in  a  French  harbour  by  nightfall  of  a  summer's  day,  when- 
ever she  had  the  whim  to  fly  abroad.  Of  these  enviable 
privileges  she  boasted  with  some  happy  pi'ide. 

"  It's  the  finest  yachting-station  in  England,"  said  Beau- 
champ. 

She  expressed  herself  very  glad  that  he  should  like  it  so 
much.  Unfortunately  she  added,  "  I  hope  you  will  find  it 
pleasanter  to  be  here  than  canvassing." 

"  I  have  no  pleasure  in  canvassing,"  said  he.  "I  canvass 
poor  men  accustomed  to  be  paid  for  their  votes,  and  who  get 
nothing  from  me  but  what  the  baron  would  call  a  parsonical 
exhortation.  I'm  in  the  thick  of  the  most  spiritless  crew  in 
the  kingdom.  Our  southern  men  wall  not  compare  with  the 
men  of  the  north.  But  still,  even  among  these  fellows,  I 
see  danger  for  the  country  if  our  commerce  were  to  fail,  if 
distress  came  on  them.  There's  always  danger  in  disunion. 
That's  what  the  rich  won't  see.     They  see  simply  nothing 

K  2 


132  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

out  of  their  own  circle  ;  and  they  won't  take  a  thought  of 
the  overpowering-  contrast  between  their  luxury  and  the 
way  of  living,  that's  halt-starving,  of  the  poor.  They  under- 
stand it  when  fever  comes  up  from  back  alleys  and  cottages, 
and  then  they  join  their  efforts  to  sweep  the  poor  out  of  the 
district.  The  poor  are  to  get  to  their  work  anyhow,  after  a 
long  morning's  walk  over  the  proscribed  space ;  for  we  must 
have  poor,  you  know.  The  wife  of  a  parson  I  canvassed 
yesterday,  said  to  me,  '  AVho  is  to  work  for  us,  if  you  do 
away  with  the  poor.  Captain  Beauchamp?'" 

Cecilia  quitted  her  bower  and  traversed  the  wood  silently. 

"  So  you  would  blow  up  ray  poor  Mount  Laurels  for  a 
peace-oliering  to  the  lower  classes  ?" 

"  I  should  hope  to  put  it  on  a  stronger  foundation, 
Cecilia." 

"  By  means  of  some  convulsion  ?" 

"  By  forestalling  one." 

"That  must  be  our  of  the  new  ironclads,"  observed 
Cecilia,  gazing  at  the  black  smoke-pennon  of  a  tower  that 
slipped  along  the  water-line.  "  Yes  ?  You  were  saying  ? 
Put  us  on  a  sti-onger ?" 

"  It's,  I  think,  the  Hasiings  :  she  broke  down  the  other  day 
on  her  trial  trip,"  said  Beauchamp,  watching  the  ship's  pro- 
gress animatedly.  "Peppel  commands  her — a  capital  officer. 
I  sup230se  we  must  have  these  costly  big  floating  barracks. 
I  don't  like  to  hear  of  everything  being  done  for  the  defen- 
sive. The  defensive  is  perilous  policy  in  war.  It's  true, 
the  English  don't  wake  up  to  their  work  under  half  a  year. 
But,  no  :  defending  and  looking  to  defences  is  bad  for  the 
fighting  power;  and  there's  half  a  million  gone  on  that  ship. 
Half  a  inillion  !  Do  you  know  how  many  poor  taxpayers  it 
takes  to  make  up  that  sum,  Cecilia?" 

"A  great  many,"  she  slurred  over  them;  "  but  we  must 
have  big  ships,  and  the  best  that  are  to  be  had." 

"  Powerful  fast  rams,  sea- worthy  and  fit  for  running  over 
shallows,  carrying  one  big  gun  ;  swarms  of  harryers  and 
worriei'S  known  to  be  kept  ready  for  immediate  service  ; 
readiness  for  the  offensive  in  case  of  war — there's  the  best 
defence  against  a  declaration  of  war  by  a  foreign  State." 

"I  like  to  hear  you,  Xevil,"  said  Cecilia,  beaming:  "Papa 
thinks  we  have  a  miserable  army — in  numbers.  He  savs, 
the  wealthier  we  become  the  more  difficult  it  is  to  recruit 


HIS  FRIEND  AND  FOE.  133 

able-bodied  men  on  the  volunteering  system.  Yet  the 
wealthier  we  are  the  more  an  army  is  wanted,  both  to  defend 
our  wealth  and  to  preserve  order.  I  fancy  he  half  inclines 
to  compulsor}'  enlistment.    Do  speak  to  him  on  that  subject." 

Cecilia  must  have  been  innocent  of  a  design  to  awaken  the 
fire-flash  in  Nevil's  eyes.  She  had  no  design,  but  hostility 
-vas  latent,  and  hence  perhaps  the  ofPending  phrase. 

He  nodded  and  spoke  coolly.  "  An  army  to  ijreserve  order? 
So,  then,  an  army  to  threaten  civil  war  !" 

"  To  crush  revolutionists." 

"Agitators,  you  mean.  My  dear  good  old  colonel — I  have- 
always  loved  him — must  not  have  more  troops  at  his  com- 
mand." 

"  Do  you  object  to  the  drilling  of  the  whole  of  the 
people  r" 

"  Does  not  the  colonel,  Cecilia  ?  T  am  sure  he  does  in  his 
lieart,  and,  for  different  reasons,  I  do.  He  won't  trust  the 
working-classes,  nor  I  the  middle." 

"  Does  Dr.  Shrapnel  hate  the  middle-class  r" 

"  Dr.  Shrapnel  cannot  hate.  He  and  I  are  of  opinion  that, 
as  the  middle-class  are  the  party  in  power,  they  would  not, 
if  they  knew  the  use  of  arms,  move  an  inch  fai-ther  in 
Reform,  for  they  would  no  longer  be  in  fear  of  the  class 
below  them." 

"  But  what  horrible  notions  of  your  country  have  you, 
Xevil !  It  is  dreadful  to  hear.  Oh  !  do  let  us  avoid  politics 
for  ever.     Fear  !" 

"  All  concessions  to  the  people  have  been  won  from  fear." 

"  I  have  not  heard  so." 

"  I  will  read  it  to  you  in  the  History  of  England." 

"  You.  paint  us  in  a  condition  of  Revolution." 

"  Happily  it's  not  a  condition  unnatural  to  us.  The  danger 
would  be  in  not  letting  it  be  progressive,  and  there's  a  little 
danger  too  at  times  in  our  slowness.  We  change  our  blood 
or  we  perish." 

"Dr.  Shrapnel?" 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard  Dr.  Shrapnel  say  that.  And,  by-the- 
way,  Cecilia — will  you  ?  can  you  ? — take  me  for  the  witness 
to  his  character.  He  is  the  most  guileless  of  men,  and  he's 
the  most  unguarded.  My  good  Rosamund  saw  him.  She  ia 
easily  prejudiced 'when  she  is  a  trifle  jealous,  and  you  may 
hear  from  her  that  he  rambles,  talks  wildly.     It  may  seem 


134  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

SO.  I  maintain  there  is  wisdom  in  him  when  conventional 
minds  would  think  him  at  his  wildest.  Believe  me,  he  is 
the  humanest,  the  best  of  men,  tender-hearted  as  a  child: 
the  most  benevolent,  simple-minded,  admirable  old  man — 
the  man  I  am  proudest  to  think  of  as  an  Englishman  and  a 
man  living  in  my  time,  of  all  men  existing.  I  can't  over- 
praise him." 

"  He  has  a  bad  reputation." 

"  Only  with  the  class  that  will  not  meet  him  and  answer 
him." 

"  Must  we  invite  him  to  our  houses  ?" 

"  It  would  be  difficult  to  get  him  to  come,  if  you  did.  I 
mean,  meet  him  in  debate  and  answer  his  arguments.  Try 
the  question  by  brains." 

"  Before  mobs  ?" 

"  Not  before  mobs.  I  punish  you  by  answering  you 
seriously." 

"  I  am  sensible  of  the  flattery." 

"  Before  mobs  !"  Nevil  ejaculated.  "It's  the  Tories  that 
mob  together  and  cry  down  every  man  who  appears  to  them 
to  threaten  their  privileges.  Can  you  guess  what  Dr. 
Shrapnel  compai^es  them  to  ?" 

"  Indeed,  Nevil,  I  have  not  an  idea.  I  only  wish  your 
patriotism  were  large  enough  to  embrace  them." 

"  He  compares  them  to  geese  claiming  possession  of  the 
whole  common,  and  hissing  at  every  foot  of  ground  they 
have  to  yield.  They're  always  having  to  retire  and  always 
hissing.     '  Retreat  and  menace,'  that's  the  motto  for  them." 

"  Very  well,  Xevil,  I  am  a  goose  upon  a  common." 

So  saving,  Cecilia  swam  forward  like  a  swan  on  water  to 
give  the  morning  kiss  to  her  papa,  by  the  open  window  of 
the  breakfast-room. 

ISTever  did  bird  of  l^.lichaelmas  fling  off  water  from  her 
feathers  more  thoroughly  than  this  fair  young  lady  the  false 
title  she  pretended  to  assume. 

"  I  hear  you're  of  the  dinner  party  at  Grancey  Lespel's  on 
Wednesday,"  the  colonel  said  to  Beauchamp.  "  You'll  have 
to  stand  fire." 

"  They  will,  papa,"  mui'mured  Cecilia.  "  Will  Mr.  Austin 
be  there  P" 

"I  particularly  wish  to  meet  Mr.  Austin,"  said  Beau- 
champ, 


HIS  FRIEND  AND  FOE.  135 

"Listen to  him,  if  you  do  meet  laim,"  she  i^eplied. 

His  look  was  rather  grave. 

"  Lespel's  a  Whig,"  he  said. 

The  colonel  answered.  "  Lespel  teas  a  Whig  Once  a 
Tory  always  a  Tory, — but  court  the  people  ixi^^d  you're  on 
quicksands,  and  that's  where  the  Whigs  are.  What  lie  is 
now  I  don't  think  he  knows  himself.  You  won't  get  a 
vote." 

Cecilia  watched  her  friend  JSTevil  recoA-ering  from  Lis 
short  fit  of  gloom.  He  dismissed  politics  at  brenkfast  and 
grew  companionable,  with  the  charm  of  hirf  earlier  day.  He 
was  willing  to  accompany  her  to  church  too. 

"  You  will  hear  a  long  sermon,"  she  warned  him. 

"  Forty  minutes."  Colonel  Halkett  smotlioi-ed  a  yawn 
that  was  both  retro  and  prospective. 

"  It  has  been  fifty,  papa." 

"  It  has  been  an  hour,  my  dear." 

It  was  good  discipline  nevertheless^  the  colonel  affirmedj 
and  Cecilia  praised  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brisk  of  Urplesdon 
vicarage  as  one  of  our  few  i-emaining  Protestant  clergymen. 

"  Then  he  ought  to  be  supported,"  said  Beauchamp.  "  In 
the  dissensions  of  religious  bodies  it  is  wise  to  pat  the 
Aveaker  party  on  the  back. — I  quote  Stukely  Culbrett." 

"  I've  heard  him,"  sighed  the  colonel.  "  He  calls  the 
Protestant  clergy  the  social  police. of  the  English  middle- 
class.  Those  are  the  things  he  lets  fly.  I  have  heard  that 
man  say  that  the  Church  stands  to  show  the  passion  of  the 
human  race  for  the  drama.  He  said  it  in  my  presence.  And 
there's  a  man  who  calls  himself  a  Tory  !  You  have  rather 
too  much  of  that  playing  at  grudges  and  dislikes  at  Steyn- 
ham,  with  squibs,  nicknames,  and  jests  at  things  that — 
well,  that  our  stability  is  bound  up  in.     I  hate  squibs." 

"  And  I,"  said  Beauchamp.  Some  shadow  of  a  frown 
crossed  him ;  but  Stukely  Culbrett's  humour  seemed  to  be 
a  refuge.  "  Protestant  parson — not  clergy,"  he  corrected 
the  colonel.  "  Can't  you  hear  Mr.  Culbrett,  Cecilia  ?  The 
Protestant  parson  is  the  policeman  set  to  watch  over  the 
respectability  of  the  middle-class.  He  has  sharp  eyes  for 
the  sins  of  the  poor.  As  for  the  rich,  they  support  his 
church  ;  they  listen  to  his  sermon — to  set  an  example : 
discipline,  colonel.  You  discipline  the  tradesman,  who's 
afraid  of  losing  your  custom,  and  the  labourer,  who  might 


136  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

be  deprived  of  his  bread.  But  the  people  ?  It's  put  down 
to  the  wickedness  of  human  nature  that  the  parson  has  not 
got  hold  of  the  people.  The  parsons  have  lost  them  by 
senseless  Conservatism,  because  they  look  to  the  Tories  for 
the  support  of  their  Church,  and  let  the  religion  run  down 
the  gutters.  And  how  many  thousands  have  you  at  work 
in  the  pulpit  every  Sunday  ?  I'm  told  the  Dissenting 
ministers  have  some  vitality." 

Colonel  Halkett  shrugged  with  disgust  at  the  mention  of 
Dissenters. 

"  And  those  thirty  or  forty  thousand,  colonel,  call  the 
men  that  do  the  work  they  ought  to  be  doing  demagogues. 
The  parsonry  are  a  power  absolutely  to  be  counted  for 
waste,  as  to  progress." 

Cecilia  perceived  that  her  father  was  beginning  to  be 
fretted. 

She  said,  with  a  tact  that  effected  its  object :  "I  am  one 
who  hear  Mr.  Culbrett  without  admiring  his  wit." 

"  No,  and  I  see  no  good  in  this  kind  of  Steynham  talk," 
Colonel  Halkett  said,  rising.  "  We're  none  of  us  perfect. 
Heaven  save  us  from  political  parsons !" 

Beaucham])  was  heard  to  utter  :  "  Humanity." 

The  colonel  left  the  room  with  Cecilia,  muttering  the 
Steynham  tail  to  that  word  :  "  tomtity  "  for  the  solace  of  an 
aside  repartee. 

She  was  on  her  way  to  dress  for  church.  He  drew  her 
into  the  library,  and  there  threw  open  a  vast  placard  lying 
on  the  table.  It  was  printed  in  blue  characters  and  red. 
"  This  is  what  I  got  by  the  post  this  morning.  I  suppose 
Nevil  knows  al)out  it.  He  wants  tickling,  but  I  don't  like 
this  kind  of  thing.  It's  not  fair  Avar.  It's  as  bad  as  using 
explosive  bullets  in  my  old  game." 

"  Can  he  expect  his  adversaries  to  be  tender  with  him  ?" 
Cecilia  simulated  vehemence  in  an  underbreath.  She 
glanced  down  the  page. 

"  French  Marquees  "  caught  her  eye. 

It  was  a  page  of  verse.  And,  oh  !  could  it  have  issued 
from  a  Tory  Committee  ? 

"  The  Liberals  are  as  bad,  and  worse,"  her  father 
said. 

She  became  more  and  more  distressed.  "  It  seems  so 
very  mean,  papa ;   so  base.     Ungenerous  is  no  word  for  it. 


J 


HIS  FHTEXD  AXD  FOE.  137 

And  how  vulgar !  Xow  ]  remember,  Xevil  said  he  wished 
to  see  Mr.  Austin." 

"  Seymour  Austin  would  not  sanction  it."' 

"No,  but  Xevil  might  hold  him  responsible  for  it." 

"  I  suspect  Mr.  Stukelj  Culbrett,  whom  he  quotes,  and 
that  smoking-room  lot  at  Lespel's.  1  distinctly  discoun- 
tenance it.  So  I  shall  tell  them  on  Wednesday  night.  Can 
you  keep  a  secret  ?" 

"  And  after  all  Nevil  Beauchamp  is  very  young,  papa ! — 
of  course  I  can  keep  a  secret." 

The  colonel  exacted  no  word  of  honour,  feeling  quite  sure 
of  her. 

He  whispered  the  secret  in  six  words,  and  her  cheeks 
glowed  vermilion. 

"  But  they  will  meet  on  Wednesday  after  f/ii^,"  she  said, 
and  her  sight  went  dancing  down  the  column  of  verse,  of 
which  the  following  trotting  couplet  is  a  specimen : — 

"  O  did  you  ever,  hot  in  love,  a  little  British  middy  ser. 
Lihe  Orplieus  nshiny  what  the  devcc  to  do  without  Eurydice  .'"' 

The  middy  is  jilted  by  his  French  Marquees,  whom  he 
'  did  adore,'  and  in  his  wrath  he  recommends  himself  to  the 
woalthy  widow  Bevisham,  concerning  whose  choice  of  her 
suitors  there  is  a  doubt:  but  the  middy  is  encouraged  to 
persevere : — 

"  TJp,  np,  my  pretty  middy  ;  take  a  draiiyht  of  foammg  Sillery ; 
Go  in  and  win  the  widdy  with  your  Radical  artillery." 

And  if  Sillery  will  not  do,  he  is  advised,  he  being  for 
superlatives,  to  try  the  sparkliji'^i"  Sllliery  of  the  Radical 
vintage,  selected  grapes. 

This  was  but  impudent  nonsense.  But  the  reiterated 
apostrophe  to  "My  Frexch  Marquees"  was  considered  by 
Cecilia  to  be  a  brutal  offence. 

She  was  shocked  that  her  party  should  have  been  guilty 
of  it.  Nevil  certainly  provoked,  and  he  required,  hard 
!>lows  ;  and  his  uncle  Everard  might  be  right  in  telling  her 
-father  that  they  were  the  best  means  of  teaching  him  to 
come  to  his  understanding.  Still  a  foul  and  stupid  squib 
did  appear  to  her  a  debasing  weapon  to  use. 

"  I  cannot  congratulate  you  on  your  choice  of  a  second 
candidate,  papa,"  she  said  scoi-nfully. 


138  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  I  don't  much  congratulate  myself,"  said  the  colonel. 
**  Here's  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Beauchamp  informing  me  that 
her  boy  Blackburn  will  be  home  in  a  month.  Tliere  would 
have  been  plenty  of  time  for  him.  However,  we  must  make 
up  our  minds  to  it.  Those  two'll  be  meeting  on  Wednesday, 
so  keep  your  secret.     It  will  be  out  to-morrow  week." 

"  But  Nevil  will  be  accusing  Mr.  Austin." 

"  Austin  won't  be  at  Lespel's.  And  he  must  bear  it,  for 
the  sake  of  peace." 

Is  ISTevil  ruined  with  his  uncle,  papa  ?" 

"  Xot  a  bit,  I  should  imagine.     It's  Homfrey's  fun." 

"  And  this  disgraceful  squib  is  a  part  of  the  fun  ?" 

"  That  I  know  nothing  about,  my  dear.  I'm  sorry,  but 
there's  pitch  and  tar  in  politics  as  well  as  on  ship-board." 

"  I  do  not  see  that  there  should  be,"  said  Cecilia  reso- 
lutely. 

"  We  can't  hope  to  have  what  should  be." 

"  Why  not  ?  I  would  have  it:  I  would  do  my  utmost  to 
have  it,"  she  flamed  out. 

"  Your  utmost .'"'  Her  father  was  glancing  at  her  foregone 
mimicry  of  Beauchamp's  occasional  strokes  of  emphasis. 
"  Do  your  utmost  to  have  your  bonnet  on  in  time  for  us  to 
walk  to  church.     I  can't  bear  driving  there." 

Cecilia  went  to  her  room  with  the  curious  reflection, 
awakened  by  what  her  father  had  chanced  to  suggest  to  her 
mind,  that  she  likewise  could  be  fervid,  positive,  uncom- 
promising— who  knows  ?  Radicalish,  perhaps,  when  she 
looked  eye  to  eye  on  an  evil.  For  a  moment  or  so  she  espied 
within  herself  a  gulf  of  possibilities,  wherein  black  night- 
birds,  knowu  as  queries,  roused  by  shot  of  light,  do  flap 
their  wings. — Her  utmost  to  have  be  what  should  be  !  And 
why  not  r 

But  the  intemperate  feeling  subsided  while  she  was  doing 
duty  before  her  mirror,  and  the  visionary  gulf  closed  imme- 
diately. 

She  had  merely  been  very  angry  on  Nevil  Beauchamp's 
behalf,  and  had  dimly  seen  that  a  woman  can  feel  insurgent, 

most  revolutionary,  for  a  personal  cause,  Tory  though  her 
instinct  of  safety  and  love  of  smoothness  make  her. 

No  reflection  upon  this  casual  j^iece  of  self  or  sex  revela- 
tion troubled  her  head.  She  did,  hcwever,  think  of  her 
position  as  the  friend  of  Nevil  in  utter  antagonism  to  him. 


\l 


HIS  FRIEND  AND  FOE.  139 

It  beset  her  Avith  contradictions  that  blew  roiigli  on  her 
cherished  serenity;  for  she  was  of  the  order  of  ladies  who, 
by  virtue  of  their  pride  and  spirit,  their  port  and  their 
beanty,  decree  unto  themselves  the  rank  of  princesses  among 
women,  before  our  world  has  tried  their  claim  to  it.  She 
had  lived  hitherto  in  upper  air,  high  above  the  clouds  of 
earth.  Her  ideal  of  a  man  was  of  one  similarly  disengaged 
and  lofty — loftier.  Xevil,  she  could  honestly  say,  was  not 
her  ideal ;  he  was  only  her  old  friend,  and  she  was  opposed 
to  him  in  his  present  adventure.  The  striking  at  him  to 
cure  him  of  his  mental  errors  and  excesses  was  an  obliga- 
tion; she  could  descend  upon  him  calmly  with  the  chasten- 
ing rod,  pointing  to  the  better  way ;  but  the  shielding  of  him 
was  a  different  thing ;  it  dragged  her  down  so  low,  that  in 
her  condemnation  of  the  Tory  squib  she  found  herself  asking 
herself  whether  haply  Nevil  had  flung  off  the  yoke  of  the 
French  lady ;  with  the  foolish  excuse  for  the  question,  that 
if  he  had  not,  he  must  be  bitterly  sensitive  to  the  slightest 
public  allusion  to  her.  Had  he  ?  And  if  not,  how  despe- 
rately faithful  he  was  !  or  else  how  marvellously  seductive 
she  ! 

Perhaps  it>  was  a  lover's  despair  that  had  precipitated 
him  into  ihe  mire  of  politics.  She  conceived  the  impression 
that  it  must  be  so,  and  throughout  the  day  she  had  an  inex- 
plicable unsweet  pleasure  in  inciting  bim  to  argumentation 
and  combating  him,  though  she  was  compelled  to  admit  that 
he  had  been  colloquially  charming  antecedent  to  her  naughty 
provocation ;  and  though  she  was  indebted  to  him  for  his 
patient  decorum  under  the  weary  wave  of  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Brisk.  Xow  what  does  it  matter  what  a  woman  thinks  in 
politics  ?  But  he  deemed  it  of  gi^eat  moment.  Politically, 
he  deemed  that  women  have  souls,  a  certain  fire  of  life  for 
exercise  on  earth.  He  appealed  to  reason  in  them  ;  he  would 
not  hear  of  convictions.  He  quoted  the  Bevisham  doctor  : 
*  Convictions  are  generally  first  impressions  that  are  sealed 
with  later  prejudices,'  and  insisted  there  was  wisdom  in  it. 
JS'othing  tired  him,  as  he  had  said,  and  addressing  woman  or 
man,  no  prospect  of  fatigue  or  of  hopeless  effort  daunted  him 
n  the  endeavour  to  correct  an  error  of  judgement  in  politics 
—Ms  notion  of  an  error.  The  value  he  put  upon  speaking, 
urging  his  views,  was  really  fanatical.  It  appeared  that  he 
canvassed  the  borough  from  early  morning  till  near  mid- 


140  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAKEER. 

night,  and  nothing  would  persuade  him  that  his  chance  was 
poor ;  nothing  that  an  entrenched  Tory  like  her  father,  was 
not  to  be  won  even  by  an  assault  of  all  the  reserve  forces  of 
Radical  pathos,  prognostication,  and  statistics. 

Only  conceive  jN'evil  Beauchamp  knocking  at  doors  late  at 
night,  the  sturdy  beggar  of  a  vote  !  or  Avaylaying  workmen, 
as  he  confessed  without  shame  that  he  had  done,  on  their 
way  trooping  to  their  midday  meal ;  penetrating  malodo- 
riferous  rooms  of  dismal  ten-pound  cottagers,  to  exhort 
bedi-aggled  mothers  and  babes,  and  besotted  husbands  ;  and 
exposed  to  rebuffs  from  impertinent  tradesmen  ;  and  lam- 
pooned and  travestied,  shouting  speeches  to  roaring  men, 
pushed  from  shoulder  to  shoulder  of  the  mob !  .   .  . 

Cecilia  dropped  a  curtain  on  her  mind's  picture  of  him. 
But  the  blinding  curtain  rekindled  th»j  thought  that  the  line 
he  had  taken  could  not  but  be  the  desperation  of  a  lover 
abandoned.  She  feared  it  was,  she  feared  it  was  not.  Nevil 
Beauchamp's  foe  persisted  in  fearing  that  it  was  not ;  his 
friend  feared  that  it  was.  Yet  why  P  For  if  it  was,  then 
he  could  not  be  quite  in  earnest,  and  might  be  cured.  Nay, 
but  earnestness  woi'ks  out  its  own  cure  more  surely  than 
frenzy,  and  it  should  be  preferable  to  think  him  sound  of 
heart,  sincere  though  mistaken.  Cecilia  could  not  decide 
upon  what  she  dared  wish  for  his  health's  good.  Friend 
and  foe  were  not  further  sejiarable  within  her  bosom  than 
one  tick  from  another  of  a  clock :  they  changed  places,  and 
next  his  friend  was  fearing  what  his  foe  had  feared :  they 
were  inextricable. 

Why  had  he  not  sprung  up  on  a  radiant  aquiline  ambition, 
whither  one  might  have  followed  him,  with  eyes  and  prayers 
for  him,  if  it  was  not  possible  to  do  so  corapanionably  ?  At 
present,  in  the  shape  of  a  canvassing  candidate,  it  was  hardly 
honourable  to  let  imagination  dwell  on  him,  save  compas- 
sionately. 

When  he  rose  to  take  his  leave,  Cecilia  said,  "  Must  you 
go  to  Itchincope  on  Wednesday,  Nevil  ?" 

Colonel  Halkett  added :  "  I  don't  think  I  would  go  to 
Lespel's  if  I  wei-e  you.  I  rather  suspect  Seymour  Austin 
will  be  coming  on  \7ednesday,  and  that'll  detain  me  here, 
and  you  might  join  us  and  lend  him  an  ear  for  an  even- 

"  I  have  particular  reasons  for  going  to  Lespel's;  I  hear 


CONCEENING  THE  ACT  OF  CANVASSING.  141 

he  wavers  to\^'a^d  a  Tor}-  conspiracy  of  some  sort,"  said 
Beauchanip. 

The  colonel  held  his  tongue. 

The  untiring  young  candidate  chose  to  walk  down  to 
Bevisham  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  that  he  might  be  the 
readier  to  continue  his  canvass  of  the  borough  on  Monday 
morning  early.  He  was  olfered  a  bed  or  a  conveyance,  and 
he  declined  both ;  the  dog-cart  he  declined  out  of  consider, 
at  ion  for  horse  and  groom,  which  an  owner  of  stables  could 
not  but  approve. 

Colonel  Halkett  broke  into  exclamations  of  pity  for  so 
good  a  young  fellow  so  misguided. 

The  night  was  moonless,  and  Cecilia,  looking  through  the 
window,  said  whimsically,  "  He  has  gone  out  into  the  dark- 
ness, and  is  no  light  in  it !" 

C  ertainly  none  shone.  She  however  carried  a  lamp  that 
l•e^•ealed  him  footing  on  with  a  wonderful  air  of  confidence, 
and  she  was  rather  surprised  to  hear  her  father  regret  that 
Xevil  Beauchamp  should  be  losing  his  good  looks  already^ 
owing  to  that  miserable  business  of  his  in  Bevisham.  She 
would  have  thought  the  contrary,  that  he  was  looking  as 
well  as  ever. 

"  He  dresses  just  as  he  used  to  dress,"  she  observed. 

The  individual  stj^le  of  a  naval  officer  of  breeding,  in  which 
you  see  neatness  trifling  with  disorder,  or  disorder  plucking 
at  neatness,  like  the  breeze  a  trim  vessel,  had  been  caught 
to  perfection  by  Nevil  BeauchamjD,  according  to  Cecilia.  It 
presented  him  to  her  mind  in  a  cheerful  and  a  very  un- 
democratic aspect,  but  in  realizing  it,  the  thought,  like 
something  flashing  black,  crossed  her — how  attractive  such 
a  style  must  be  to  a  Fi-enchwoman! 

"He  may  look  a  little  worn,"  she  acquiesced. 


CHAPTER  XYIII. 

CO^TEKXING    THE   ACT   OF    CANVASSTNO. 

Tories  dread  the  restlessness  of  Radicals,  and  Radicals 
are  in  awe  of  the  organization  of  Tories.  Beauchamp  thought 
anxiously  of   the  high  degree  of   confidence  existing  in  the 


142  BEAUCHAMP*S  CAREER. 

Tory  camp,  whose  chief  could  afford  to  keep  aloof,  while  he 
slaved  all  day  and  half  the  night  to  thump  ideas  into  head  , 
like  a  cooper  on  a  cask :— an  impassioned  cooper  on  an  empty 
cask !  if  such  an  image  is  presentable.  Even  so  enviously 
sometimes  the  writer  and  the  barrister,  men  dependent  on 
their  active  wits,  regard  the  man  with  a  business  lixed  in  an 
office  managed  by  clerks.  That  man  seems  by  comparison 
celestially  seated.  But  he  has  his  fits  of  trepidation ;  for 
new  tastes  prevail  and  new  habits  are  formed,  and  the 
structure  of  his  business  will  not  allow  him  to  adapt  himself 
to  them  in  a  minute.  The  secure  and  comfortable  have  to 
pay  in  occasional  panics  for  the  serenity  they  enjoy.  ^Ir. 
SejT^mour  Austin  candidly  avowed  to  Colonel  Halkett,  on  his 
arrival  at  Mount  Laurels,  that  he  was  advised  to  take  up 
his  quarters  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Bevisham  by  a  recent 
report  of  his  committee,  describing  the  young  Radical's 
canvass  as  redoubtable.  Cougham  he  did  not  fear:  he 
could  make  a  sort  of  calculation  of  the  votes  for  the  Liberal 
thumping  on  the  old  drum  of  Reform ;  but  the  number  for 
him  who  appealed  to  feelings  and  quickened  the  romantic 
sentiments  of  the  common  people  now  huddled  within  our 
electoral  penfold,  was  not  calculable.  Tory  and  Radical  have 
an  eye  for  one  another,  which  overlooks  the  Liberal  at  all 
times  except  when  he  is,  as  they  imagine,  playing  the  game 
of  either  of  them. 

"  Xow  we  shall  see  the  passions  worked,"  Mr.  Austin  said, 
deploring  the  extension  of  the  franchise. 

He  asked  whether  Beauchamp  spoke  well. 

Cecilia  left  it  to  her  father  to  reply ;  but  the  colonel  ap- 
pealed to  her,  saying,  "  Inclined  to  dragoon  one,  isn't  he  ?" 

She  did  not  think  that.  "  He  speaks  ....  he  speaks  well 
in  conversation.  I  fancy  he  would  be  liked  by  the  poor.  I 
should  doubt  his  being  a  good  public  speaker.  He  certainly 
has  command  of  his  temper :  that  is  one  thing.  I  cannot 
say  whether  it  favours  oratory.  He  is  indefatigable  One 
may  be  sure  he  will  not  faint  by  the  way.  He  quite  believes 
in  himself.  But,  Mr.  Austin,  do  you  really  regard  him  as  a 
serious  rival  F" 

Mr.  Austin  could  not  tell.  No  one  could  tell  the  effect  of 
an  extended  franchise.  The  untried  venture  of  it  depressed 
him.  "  Men  have  come  suddenly  on  a  borough  before  now 
and  carried  it,"  he  said. 


CONCERNING  THE  ACT  OP  CANVASSING.  143 

"  Not  a  borough  like  Bevisham  ?" 
,,  He  shook  his  head.     "  A  fluid  borough,  I'm  afraid." 

Colonel  Halkett  interposed  :  "  But  Ferbrass  is  quite  sure 
of  his  district." 

Cecilia  wished  to  know  who  the  man  was,  of  the  medisevallj 
sounding  name. 

"  Ferbrass  is  an  old  lawyer,  my  dear.  He  comes  of  five 
generations  of  lawyers,  and  he's  as  old  in  the  county  as 
Grancey  Lespel.  Hirherto  he  has  always  been  to  be  counted 
on  for  marching  his  district  to  the  poll  like  a  regiment. 
That's  our  strength — the  professions,  especially  lawyers." 

"Are  not  a  great  many  lawyers  Liberals,  papa?" 

"  A  great  many  harnsfen^  are,  my  dear." 

Thereat  the  colonel  and  Mr.  Austin  smiled  together. 

It  was  a  new  idea  to  Cecilia  that  JSTevil  Beauchamp  should 
be  considered  by  a  .man  of  the  world  anything  but  a  well- 
meaning,  moderately  ridiculous  young  candidate  ;  and  the 
fact  that  one  so  experienced  as  Seymour  Austin  deemed  him 
an  adversary  to  be  grappled  with  in  earnest,  created  a  small 
revolution  in  her  mind,  entirely  altering  her  view  of  the 
probable  pliability  of  his  Radicalism  under  pressure  of  time 
and  circumstances.  Many  of  his  remarks,  that  she  had  pre- 
viously half  smiled  at,  came  across  her  memory  hard  as 
metal.  She  began  to  feel  some  terror  of  him,  and  said,  to 
reassure  herself ;  "  Captain  Beauchamp  is  not  likely  to  be  a 
champion  with  a  very  large  following.  He  is  too  much  of  a 
political  mystic,  I  think." 

"  Many  young  men  are,  before  they  have  written  out  a 
fair  copy  of  their  meaning,"  said  Mr.  Austin. 

Cecilia  laughed  to  herself  at  the  vision  of  the  fiery  Nevil 
enoaged  in  writing  out  a  fair  copy  of  his  meaning.  How 
many  erasures  !   what  foot-notes  ! 

The  arrangement  was  for  Cecilia  to  proceed  to  Itchincope 
alone  for  a  couple  of  days,  and  bring  a  party  to  Mount 
Laurels  through  Bevisham  by  the  yacht  on  Thursday,  to 
meet  Mr.  Seymour  Austin  and  Mr.  Everard  Romfrey.  An 
early  day  of  the  next  week  had  been  agreed  on  for  the  un- 
masking of  the  second  Tory  candidate.  She  promised  that 
in  case  Nevil  Beauchamp  should  have  the  hardihood  to  enter 
the  enemy's  nest  at  Itchincope  on  Wednesday,  at  the  great 
dinner  and  ball  there,  she  would  do  her  best  to  bring  him 
back  to  Mount  Laurels,  that  he  might  meet  his  uncle  Everard, 


144  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

who  was  expected  there.  "  At  least  he  may  consent  to  come 
for  an  evening,"  she  said.  "  Nothing  will  take  him  from 
that  canvassing.  It  seems  to  me  it  must  be  not  merely  dis- 
tasteful .  .  .  .  ?" 

Mr.  Austin  replied :  "  It's  disagreeable,  but  it's  the  prac- 
tice. I  would  gladly  be  bound  by  a  common  undertaking  to 
abstain." 

"  Captain  Beauchamp  argues  that  it  would  be  all  to  your 
advantage.  He  says  that  a  personal  visit  is  the  only  chance 
for  an  unknown  candidate  to  make  the  people  acquainted 
with  him." 

''•  It's  a  very  good  opportunity^  for  making  him  acquainted 
with  them;  and  1  hope  he  may  profit  by  it." 

"  Ah  !  pah  !  '  To  beg  the  vote  and  wink  the  bribe,'  " 
Colonel  Halkett  subjoined  abhorrently  : — 

"  *It  well  becomes  the  Whig<i,ish  tribe 
To  beg  the  vote  and  wink  the  bribe.' 

Canvassing  means  intimidation  or  corruption." 

"  Or  the  mixture  of  the  two,  called  cajolery,"  said  Mr. 
Austin  ;  "  and  that  was  the  principal  art  of  the  Whigs." 

Thus  did  these  gentlemen  converse  upon  canvassing. 

It  is  not  possible  to  gather  up  in  one  volume  of  sound  the 
rattle  of  the  knocks  at  Englislimen's  castle-gates  during  elec- 
tion days  ;  so,  with  the  thunder  of  it  unheard,  the  majesty 
of  the  act  of  canvassing  can  be  bnt  barely  appreciable,  fuid 
he,  therefore,  who  would  celebrate  it  must  follow  the  caiv 
didate  obsequiously  from  door  to  door,  where,  like  a  cross 
between  a  postman  delivering  a  bill  and  a  beggar  craving 
an  alms,  patiently  he  attempts  the  extraction  of  the  vote,  as 
little  boys  pick  periwinkles  with  a  pin. 

'  This  is  your  duty,  which  I  most  abjectly  entreat  you  to 
do,'  is  pretty  nearly  the  form  of  the  supplication. 

How  if,  instead  of  the  solicitation  of  the  thousands  by  the 
unit,  the  meritorious  unit  were  besought  by  rushing  thou- 
sands P — as  a  mound  of  the  plains  that  is  circumvented  by 
floods,  and  to  which  the  waters  cry,  Be  thou  our  island. 
Let  it  be  answered  the  questioner,  with  no  discourteous 
adjectives,  Thou  fool !  To  come  to  such  heights  of  popular 
discrimination  and  political  ardour  the  people  would  have 
to  be  vivified  to  a  pitch  little  short  of  eruptive  :  it  would 
be  Boreas  blowing  ^tna  inside  them;   and  we  should  have 


CONCERNING  THE  ACT  OP  CANVASSING.  145 

impulse  at  work  in  the  country,  and  immense  importance 
attaohing  to  a  man's  whether  he  will  or  he  won't — enough 
to  womanize  hira.  We  should  be  all  but  having  Parliament 
for  a  sample  of  our  choicest  rather  than  our  iikest :  and  see 
you  not  a  peril  in  that  ? 

Conceive,  for  the  fleeting  instants  permitted  to  such  in- 
sufferable flights  of  fancy,  our  picked  men  ruling  !  So  des- 
potic an  oligarchy  as  would  be  there,  is  not  a  happy  subject 
of  contemplation.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  a  domi- 
nation  of  the  Intellect  in  England  would  at  once  and  entirely 
alter  the  face  of  the  country.  We  should  be  governed  by 
the  head  with  a  vengeance  :  all  the  rest  of  the  country  being 
base  members  indeed;  Spartans — helois.  Criticism,  now  so 
helpful  to  us,  would  wither  to  the  root :  fun  would  die  out 
of  Parliament,  and  outside  of  it :  we  could  never  laugh  at 
our  masters,  or  command  them  :  and  that  good  old-fashioned 
shouldering  of  separate  interests,  which,  if  it  stops  progress, 
like  a  block  in  the  pit  entrance  to  a  theatre,  proves  us  equal 
before  the  law,  puts  an  end  to  the  pretence  of  higher  merit 
in  the  one  or  the  other,  and  renders  a  stout  build  the  safest 
assurance  for  coming  through  ultimately,  would  be  trans- 
formed to  a  painful  orderliness,  like  a  City  procession  under 
the  conduct  of  the  police,  and  to  classifications  of  things 
according  to  their  public  value:  decidedly  no  benefit  to  burly 
freedom.  T^oue,  if  there  were  no  shouldering  and  hustling, 
could  tell  whether  actually  the  fittest  survived ;  as  is  now  the 
case  among  survivors  delighting  in  a  broad-chested  fitness. 

And  consider  the  freezing  isolation  of  a  body  of  our  quint- 
essential elect,  seeing  below  them  none  to  resemble  them  ! 
Do  you  not  hear  in  imagination  the  land's  regrets  for  that 
amiable  nobility  whose  pretensions  were  comically  built  on 
birth,  acres,  tailoring,  style,  and  an  air.  Ah,  that  these 
unchallengeable  new  lords  could  be  exchanged  for  those  old 
ones  !  These,  with  the  traditions  of  how  great  people  should 
look  in  our  country,  these  would  pass  among  us  like  bergs  of 
ice — a  pure  Polar  aristocracy,  inflicting  the  woes  of  wintri- 
ness  upon  us.  Keep  them  from  concentrating  !  At  present 
I  believe  it  to  bt  their  honest  opinion,  their  wise  opinion, 
and  the  sole  opinion  common  to  a  majority  of  them,  that 
it  is  more  salutary,  besides  more  diverting,  to  have  the 
fools  of  the  kingdom  represented  than  not.  As  professors 
of  the    sarcastic  art    they  can  easily   take  the  dignity  out 

I. 


146  B-HAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

of  the  fools'  representative  at  their  pleasure,  showing  him 
at  antics  Avhile  he  supposes  he  is  exhibiting  an  honourable 
and  a  decent  series  of  movements.  Generally,  too,  their 
archery  can  check  him  when  he  is  for  any  of  his  mea- 
sures ;  and  if  it  does  not  check,  there  appears  to  be  such 
a  property  in  simple  sneering,  that  it  consoles  even  when  it 
fails  to  right  the  balance  of  power.  Sarcasm,  we  well  know, 
confers  a  title  of  aristocracy  straightway  and  sharp  on  the 
sconce  of  the  man  who  does  but  imagine  that  he  is  using  it. 
What,  then,  must  be  the  elevation  of  these  princes  of  the 
intellect  in  their  own  minds  !  Hardly  worth  bartering  for 
worldly  commanderships,  it  is  evident. 

Briefly,  then,  we  have  a  system,  not  planned  but  grown, 
the  outcome  and  image  of  our  genius,  and  all  are  dissatisfied 
with  parts  of  it ;  but,  as  each  would  preserve  his  OAvn,  the 
surest  guarantee  is  obtained  for  the  integrity  of  the  whole 
by  a  hajDpy  adjustment  of  the  energies  of  opposition,  which — 
you  have  only  to  look  to  see — goes  far  beyond  concord  in  the 
promotion  of  harmony.  This  is  our  English  system ;  like 
our  English  pudding,  a  fortuitous  concourse  of  all  the  sweets 
in  the  grocer's  shop,  JDut  an  excellent  thing  for  all  that,  and 
let  none  threaten  it.  Canvassing  appears  to  be  mixed  up  in 
the  system  ;  at  least  I  hope  I  have  shown  that  it  will  not  do 
to  reverse  the  process,  for  fear  of  changes  leading  to  a 
sovereignty  of  the  austere  and  anti])atlietic  Intellect  in  our 
England,  that  would  be  an  inaccessible  tyranny  of  a  very 
small  minority,  necessarily  followed  by  tremendous  con- 
vulsions. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

LORD  PALMET,  AND  CERTAIN  ELEC'IORS  OF  BEVISHAM. 

Meantime  the  candidates  raised  knockers,  rang  bells, 
bowed,  expounded  their  views,  praised  their  virtues,  beo-o-ed 
for  votes,  and  greatly  and  strangely  did  the  youngest  of 
them  enlarge  his  knowledge  of  his  countrymen.  But  he 
had  an  insatiable  appetite,  and  except  in  relation  to  Mr. 
Cougham,  considerable  tolerance.  With  Cougham,  he  was 
like  a  young  hound  in  the  leash.  They  had  to  run  as  twins; 
but  Beauch amp's  conjunct  would  not  run,  he  would  wa)i; 


LOED  PALMET.  147 

He  imposed  his  experience  on  Beauchamp,  with  an  as- 
sumption that  it  must  necessarily  be  taken  for  the  law  of 
BeauchamjD's  reason  in  electoral  and  in  political  affairs,  and 
this  was  hard  on  Beauchamp,  who  had  faith  in  his  reason. 
Beauchamp's  early  canvassing  brought  Cougham  down  to 
Bevisham  earlier  than  usual  in  the  days  when  he  and 
Seymour  Austin  divided  the  borough,  and  he  inclined  to 
administer  correction  to  the  Radically-disposed  youngster. 
"Yes,  I  have  gone  all  over  that,"  he  said,  in  speech  some- 
times, in  manner  perpetually,  upon  the  intrusion  of  an  idea 
by  his  junior.  Cougham  also,  Cougham  had  passed  through 
his  Radical  phase,  as  one  does  on  the  road  to  wisdom.  So 
the  frog  telleth  tadpoles :  he  too  has  wriggled  most  prepos- 
terous of  tails  ;  and  he  has  shove«l  a  circular  flat  head  into 
corners  unadapted  to  its  shape  ;  and  that  the  undeveloped 
one  should  dutifully  listen  to  experience  and  accept  guidance, 
is  devoutly  to  be  hoped.  Alas  !  Beauchamp  would  not  be 
taught  that  though  they  were  yoked  they  stood  at  the 
opposite  ends  of  the  process  of  evolution. 

The  oddly  cou])led  pair  deplored,  among  their  respective 
friends,  the  disastrous  Siamese  twinship  created  by  a  hap- 
hazard improvident  Liberal  camp.  Look  at  us  !  they  said  : 
— Beauchamp  is  a  young  demagogue  ;  Cougham  is  chrysalis 
Tory.  Such  Libera 'S  are  the  ruin  of  Liberalism;  but  of  such 
must  it  be  composed  when  there  is  no  npw  cry  to  loosen 
floods.  It  was  too  late  to  think  of  an  operation  to  divide 
them.  They  held  the  heart  of  the  cause  between  them,  were 
bound  fast  together,  and  had  to  go  on.  Beauchamp,  with 
a  furious  tug  of  Radicalism,  spoken  or  performed,  pulled 
Cougham  on  his  beam-ends.  Cougham,  to  right  himself, 
defined  his  Liberalism  sharply  from  the  politics  of  the  pit, 
pointed  to  France  and  her  Revolutions,  washed  his  hands 
of  excesses,  and  entirely  overset  Beauchamp.  Seeing  that 
he  stood  in  the  Liberal  interest,  the  junior  could  not 
abandon  the  Liberal  flag ;  so  he  seized  it  and  bore  it  ahead 
of  the  time,  there  where  Radicals  trip  their  phantom  dances 
like  shadows  on  a  fog.  and  waved  it  as  the  very  flag  of  our 
perfectible  race.  So  great  was  the  impetus  that  Cougham 
had  no  choice  but  to  step  ont  with  him  briskly — voluntarily 
as  a  man  propelled  by  a  hand  on  his  coat-collar.  A  word 
saved  him:  the  word  practical.  "Are  we  practijcal  ?"  he 
inquired,  and  shivered  Beauchamp's  galloping  frame  with  a 

l2 


148  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

violent  application  of  the  stop  abrupt ;  for  that  qnestion, 
* 'Are  we  practical?"  penetrates  the  bosom  of  an  English 
audience,  and  will  surely  elicit  a  resporse  if  not  plaudits. 
Practical  or  not,  the  good  people  affectingly  wish  to  be 
thought  practical.  It  has  been  asked  by  them  :  If  we're  not 
practical,  what  are  we  ? — Beauchamp,  talking  to  Cougham 
apart,  would  argue  that  the  daring  and  the  far-sighted  course 
was  often  the  most  practical.  Cougham  extended  a  depre- 
cating hand  :  "  Yes,  I  have  gone  over  all  that."  Occasionally 
he  was  maddening. 

The  melancholy  position  of  the  senior  and  junior  Liberals 
was  known  abroad  and  matter  of  derision. 

It  happened  that  the  gay  and  good-humoured  young  Lord 
Palmet,  heir  to  the  earldom  of  Elsea,  walking  up  the  High 
Street  of  Bevisham,  met  Beauchamp  on  Tuesday  morning 
as  he  sallied  out  of  his  hotel  to  canvass.  Lord  Palmet  was 
one  of  the  numerous  half-friends  of  Cecil  Baskelett,  and  it 
may  be  a  revelation  ot  his  character  to  you,  that  he  owned 
to  liking  Beauchamp  because  of  his  having  always  been 
a  favourite  with  the  women.  He  began  chattering,  with 
Beauchamp's  hand  in  his  :  "  I've  hit  on  you,  have  I  ?  My 
dear  fellow,  ]\]iss  Halkett  was  talking  of  you  Inst  night.  I 
slept  at  ]\Iount  Laurels  ;  went  on  purpose  to  have  a  peep. 
I'm  boiwid  for  Itchincopc.  They've  some  grand  procession 
in  view  there ;  Lespel  wrote  for  my  team  ;  I  suspect  he's 
for  starting  some  new  October  races.  He  talks  of  half-a-' 
dozen  drags.  He  must  have  lots  of  women  there.  I  say^ 
what  a  splendid  creature  Cissy  Halkett  has  shot  up !  She 
topped  the  season  this  year,  and  will  next.  You're  for  the 
darkies,  Beauchamp.  So  am  I,  when  I  don't  see  a  blonde ; 
just  as  a  fellow  admires  a  girl  when  there's  no  married 
woman  or  widow  in  sight.  And,  I  say,  it  can't  be  true 
you've  gone  in  for  that  crazy  Radicalism  ?  There's  nothing 
to  be  gained  by  it,  you  know ;  the  women  hate  it !  A 
married  blonde  of  five-and-twenty's  the  Venus  of  them  all. 
Mind  you,  I  don't  forget  that  Mrs.  Wardour-Devereux  is  a 
thorough-paced  brunette ;  but,  upon  m}^  honour,  I'd  bet  on 
Cissy  Halkett  at  forty.  '  A  dark  e^^e  in  woman,'  if  you  like, 
but  blue  and  auburn  drive  it  into  a  corner." 

Lord  Palmet  concluded  by  asking  Beauchamp  what  he 
was  doing  and  whither  going. 

jBeauchamp  proposed  to  him   maliciously,  as  one  of  our 


lORD  PALMET.  149 

hereditary  legislators,  to  come  and  see  something  of  can- 
vassing. Lord  Pal  met  had  no  objection.  '•  Capital  oppor- 
tunity for  a  review  of  their  women,"  he  remarked.  "  1  map 
the  places  for  pretty  women  in  England ;  some  parts  of 
Norfolk,  and  a  spot  or  two  in  Cumberland  and  Wales,  and 
the  island  over  there,  I  know  thoroughly.  Those  Jutes 
have  turned  out  some  splendid  fair  women.  Devonshire's 
worth  a  tour.  Mj'  man  Davis  is  in  charge  of  my  team,  and 
he  drives  to  Itchincope  from  Washwater  station.  I'm  inde- 
pendent ;  I'll  have  an  hour  with  you.  Do  you  think  much 
of  the  women  here  ?" 

Beauchamp  had  not  noticed  them. 

Palmet  observed  that  he  should  not  have  noticed  anything 
else. 

"  But  you  are  qualifying  for  the  Upper  House,"  Beau- 
champ  said  in  the  tone  of  an  encomium. 

Palmet  accepted  the  statement.  "  Though  I  shall  never 
care  to  figure  before  peeresses,"  he  said.  "  I  can't  tell-  yoa 
why.  There's  a  heavy  sprinkling  of  the  old  bird  among 
them.  It  isn't  that.  There's  too  much  plumage ;  I  think 
it  must  be  that.  A  cloud  of  millinery  shoots  me  off  a  mile 
from  a  woman.  In  my  opinion,  witches  are  the  only  ones 
for  wearing  jewels  without  chilling  the  feminine  atmosphere 
about  them.  Fellows  think  differently."  Lord  Palmet 
waved  a  hand  expressive  of  purely  amiable  tolerance,  for 
this  question  upon  the  most  important  topic  of  human  affairs 
was  deep,  and  no  judgement  should  be  hasty  in  settling  it. 
"  I'm  peculiar,"  he  resumed.  "A  rose  and  a  string  of  pearls: 
a  woman  who  goes  beyond  that's  in  danger  of  petrifying 
herself  and  her  fellow  man.  Two  women  in  Paris,  last 
winter,  set  us  on  fire  with  pale  thin  gold  ornaments — neck, 
wrists,  ears,  ruche,  skirts,  all  in  a  flutter,  and  so  were  you. 
But  you  felt  witchcraft.  '  The  magical  Orient,'  Yivian 
Ducie  called  the  blonde,  and  the  dark  beauty,  '  Young 
Endor.' " 

"  Her  name  ?"   said  Beauchamp. 

"  A  marquise  ;  I  forget  her  name.  The  other  was  Countess 
Rastaglione ;  you  must  have  heard  of  her ;  a  towering 
witch,  an  empress,  Helen  of  Troy ;  though  Ducie  would 
have  it  the  brunette  was  Queen  of  Paris.  For  French  taste, 
if  you  like." 

Countess  Rastaglione  was  a  lady  enamelled  on  the  scroll 


150  BEATJCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

of  Fame.  "Did  you  see  them  together  ?"  said  Beauchamp. 
"  They  weren't  together?" 

Palmet  looked  at  kim  and  laughed.  "  You're  yourself 
again,  are  you  ?  Go  to  Paris  in  January,  and  cut  out  the 
Frenchmen." 

"Answer  me,  Palmet:  they  weren't  in  couples  ?" 

"  I  fancy  not.  It  was  luck  to  meet  them,  so  they  couldn't 
have  boon." 

"  Did  you  danCe  with  either  of  them  ?" 

Unable  to  state  accurately  that  he  had,  Palmet  cried, 
"  Oh  !  for  dancing,  the  Frenchwoman  beat  the  Italian." 

"  Did  you  see  her  often — more  than  once  ?" 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  went  everywhere  to  see  her:  balls, 
theatres,  promenades,  rides,  churches." 

"  And  you  say  she  dressed  up  to  the  Italian,  to  challenge 
her,  rival  her  ?" 

"Only  one  night;  simple  accident.  Everybody  noticed 
it,  for  they  stood  for  Night  and  Day, — both  hung  with  gold; 
the  brunette  Etruscan,  and  the  blonde  Asiatic  ;  and  every 
Frenchman  present  was  epigramizing  up  and  down  the 
rooms  like  mad.  ' 

"  Her  husband's  Legitimist;  he  wouldn't  be  at  the  Tuil- 
eries  P"     Beauchamp  spoke  half  to  himself. 

"What,  then,  what?"  Palmet  stared  and  chuckled. 
"  Her  husband  must  have  taken  the  Tuileries'  bait,  if  we 
mean  the  same  woman.  My  dear  old  Beauchamp,  have  I 
seen  her,  then?  She's  a  darling!  The  Kastaglione  was 
nothing  to  her.  When  you  do  light  on  a  grand  smoky 
pearl,  the  milky  ones  may  go  and  decorate  plaster.  That's 
what  I  say  of  the  loveliest  brunettes.  It  must  be  the  same : 
there  can't  be  a  couple  of  dark  beauties  in  Paris  without  a 

noise  about  them.     Marquise ?      I  shall  recollect  her 

name  presently." 

"  Here's  one  of  the  houses  I  stop  at,"  said  Beauchamj^, 
"and  drop  that  subject." 

A  scared  servant-girl  brought  out  her  wizened  mistress  to 
confront  the  candidate,  and  to  this  representative  of  the  sex 
he  addressed  his  arts  of  persuasion,  requesting  her  to  repeat 
his  words  to  her  husband.  The  contrast  between  Beau- 
champ palpably  canvassing  and  the  Beauchamp  who  was  the 
lover  of  the  Marquise  of  the  foigotten  name,  struck  too 
powerfully  on  Palmet  for  his  gravity:  he  retreated. 


LOET)  PALMET.  151 

Beaucbamp  foimd  him  sauntering  on  the  pavement,  and 
would  have  dismissed  him  biit  for  an  agreeable  diversion 
that  occurred  at  that  moment.  A  suavely  smiling  unctuous 
old  gentleman  advanced  to  them,  bowing,  and  presuming 
thus  far,  he  said,  under  the  supposition  that  he  was  accosting 
the  junior  Liberal  candidate  for  the  borough.  He  an- 
nounced his  name  and  his  principles:  Tomlinson,  progressive 
Liberal. 

"  A  true  distinction  from  some  Liberals  I  know,''  said 
Beauchamp. 

Mr.  Tomlinson  hoped  so.  Never,  he  said,  did  he  leave  it 
to  the  man  of  his  choice  at  an  election  to  knock  at  his  door 
fo]'  the  vote. 

Beauchamp  looked  as  if  he  had  swallow^ed  a  cordial. 
Votes  falling  into  his  lap  are  heavenly  gifts  to  the  candidate 
sick  of  the  knocker  and  the  bell.  Mr.  Tomlinson  eulogized 
the  manly  candour  of  the  junior  Liberal  candidate's  address, 
in  which  lie  professed  to  see  ideas  that  distinguished  it  from 
the  address  of  the  sound  but  otherwise  conventional  Liberal, 
Mr.  Cougham.  He  muttered  of  plumping  for  Beauchamp. 
"Don't  plump,"  Beauchamp  said;  and  a  candidate,  if  he 
would  be  an  honourable  twin,  must  say  it.  Cougham  had 
cautioned  him  against  the  heresy  of  plumping. 

They  discoursed  of  the  poor  and  their  beverages,  of  pot- 
houses, of  the  anti-liquorites,  and  of  the  duties  of  parsons, 
and  the  value  of  a  robust  and  right-minded  body  of  the  poor 
to  the  country.  Palmet  found  himself  following  them  into 
a  tolerably  spacious  house  that  he  took  to  be  the  old  gentle- 
man's until  some  of  the  apparatus  of  an  Listitute  for  literary 
and  scientific  instruction  revealed  itself  to  him,  and  he  heard 
l\lr.  Tomlinson  exalt  the  memory  of  one  Wingham  for  the 
blessing  bequeathed  by  him  to  the  town  of  Bevisham. 
"  For,"  said  Mr.  Tomlinson,  "  it  is  open  to  both  sexes,  to  all 
respectable  classes,  from  ten  in  the  morning  up  to  ten  at 
night.  Such  a  place  affords  us,  I  would  venture  to  say,  the 
advantages  without  the  seductions  of  a  Club.  I  rank  it 
next — at  afar  remove,  but  next — the  church." 

Lord  Palmet  brought  his  eyes  down  from  the  busts  of 
certain  worthies  ranged  along  the  top  of  the  book-shelves  to 
the  cushioned  chairs,  and  murmured,  "  Capital  place  for  an 
appointment  with  a  woman  " 

Mr.   Tomlinson  gazed  up   at  him   mildly,  with    a   fallen 


152  BEACrCHAMP's  CAREER. 

countenance.  He  turned  sadly  agape  in  silence  to  the  busts, 
the  books,  and  the  range  of  scientific  instruments,  and 
directed  a  gaze  under  his  eyebrows  at  Beauchamp.  "Does 
jour  friend  canvass  with  you  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  I  want  him  to  taste  it,"  Beauchamp  replied,  and  imme- 
diately introduced  the  affable  young  lord — a  proceeding 
marked  by  some  of  the  dexterity  he  had  once  been  famous 
for,  as  was  shown  by  a  subsequent  observation  of  Mr.  Tom- 
linson's  : 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  on  the  question  of  classes,  "  yes,  I  fear 
we  have  classes  in  this  country  whose  habitual  levity  sharp 
experience  Avill  have  to  correct.  I  very  much  fear  it." 
/  "  But  if  you  have  classes  that  are  not  to  face  realities — 
classes  that  look  on  them  from  the  box-seats  of  a  theatre," 
said  Beauchamp,  "how  can  you  expect  perfect  seriousness, 
or  any  good  service  whatever  ?" 

"  Gently,  sir,  gently.  No  ;  W9  can,  I  feel  confident,  ex- 
pand within  the  limits  of  our  most  excellent  and  approved 

Constitution.      I   could  wish   that   sociallv that   is 

all." 

"  Socially  and  politically  mean  one  thing  in  the  end,"  said 
Beauchamp.  "  If  you  have  a  nation  politically  corrupt,  you 
won't  have  a  good  state  of  morals  in  it,  and  the  laws  that 
keep  society  together  bear  upon  thf  politics  of  a  country." 

"  True  ;  yes,"  Mr.  Tomlinson  hesitated  assent.      He  dis 
sociated  Beauchamp  from  Lord  Palniet,  but  felt  keenly  that 
the  latter's  presence  desecrated  Windham's  Institute,  and  he 
informed  the  candidate  that  he  thought  he  would  no  longer 
detain  him  from  his  lal)ours. 

"  Just  the  sort  of  place  wanted  in  every  provincial  town," 
Palmet  remarked  by  way  of  a  parting  compliment. 

Mr.  Tomlinson  bowed  a  civil  acknowledgment  of  his 
having  again  spoken. 

i^o  further  mention  was  made  of  the  miraculous  vote 
which  had  risen  responsive  to  the  candidate's  address  of  its 
own  inspired  motion ;  so  Beauchamp  said,  "  T  beg  you  to 
bear  in  mind  that  I  request  you  not  to  plump." 

"  You  may  be  right,  Captain  Beauchamp.  Good  day, 
sir." 

Palmet  strode  after  Beauchamp  into  the  street. 

"  Why  did  you  set  me  bowing  to  that  old  boy  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Why  did  you  talk  about  women  ?"  was  the  rejoinder. 


lOED  PALMET.  153 

"  Oil,  aha!"  Palmet  sung  to  himself.  "You're  a  Romfioy, 
BeaucJiaiiip.  A  blow  for  a  blow  !  But  I  only  said  what 
would  strike  every  fellow  first  olf.  It  is  the  place  ;  the  very 
place.  Pastry-cooks'  shops  won't  stand  comparison  with  it. 
Don't  tell  me  you're  the  man  not  to  see  how  much  a  womtin 
prefers  to  be  under  the  wing  of  science  and  literatui^e,  in  a 
good-sized,  well- warmed  room,  wrth  a  book,  instead  of  making 
believe,  with  a  red  face,  over  a  tart." 

He  received  a  smart  lectui^e  from  Beauchamp,  and  began 
to  think  he  had  enough  of  canvassing.  But  he  was  not 
suffered  to  escape.  For  his  instruction,  for  his  positive 
and  extreme  good,  Beauchamp  determined  thxt  the  heir 
to  an  earl  lom  should  have  a  day's  lesson.  We  will  hope 
there  was  no  intention  to  punish  him  for  having  frozen 
the  genial  current  of  Mr.  To  nlinson's  vote  and  interest; 
and  it  may  be  that  he  clung  to  one  who  had,  as  he 
imagined,"  seen  Renee.  Accompanied  by  a  Mr.  Oggler,  a 
tradesman  of  the  town,  on  the  Liberal  committee,  dressed  in 
a  pea-jacket  and  proudly  nautical,  they  applied  for  the  vote, 
and  found  it  oftener  than  beauty.  Palmet  contrasted  his 
repeated  disappointments  with  the  scoi-ing  of  two,  three, 
four  and  more  in  the  candidate's  list,  and  informed  him  that 
he  would  certainly  get  the  Election.  "I  think  you're  sure  of 
it."  he  said.  "There's  not  a  pretty  woman  to  be  seen;  not 
one." 

One  came  up  to  them,  the  si'^ht  of  whom  counselled  Lord 
Palmet  to  reconsider  his  verdict.  She  was  addressed  by 
Beauchamp  as  Miss  Denham,  and  soon  passed  on. 

Palmet  was  guilty  of  staring  at  her,  and  of  lingering 
behind  the  others  for  a  last  look  at  her. 

They  were  on  the  steps  of  a  voter's  house,  calmly  enduring 
a  rebuif  from  him  in  person,  when  Palmet  returned  to  them, 
exclaiming  effusively,  "  What  luck  you  have,  Beauchamp  !" 
He  stopped  till  the  applicants  descended  the  steps,  with  the 
voice  of  the  voter  ringing  contempt  as  well  as  refusal  in  their 
ears ;  then  continued  :  "  You  introduced  me  neck  and  heels 
to  that  undertakerly  old  Tomlinson,  of  Wingham's  Institute  ; 
you  might  have  given  me  a  chance  with  that  Miss — Miss 
Denham,  was  it  ?     She  has  a  bit  of  a  style  !" 

*•  She  has  a  head/'  said~^Beaachamp.' 

"  A  gTrl  like  that  may  have  what  she  likes.  I  don't  care 
what  she  has — there's  woman  in  her.     You  might  take   her 


154  BEATJCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

for  a  youTig-er  sister  of  Mrs.  Wardour-Devereux.  Who's  the 
uncle  she  speaks  of  ?  She  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  walk 
out  by  herself." 

"  She  can  take  care  of  herself,"  said  Beauchamp. 

Palmet  denied  it.  "  Ko  woman  can.  Upon  my  honour,  it's 
a  shame  that  she  should  be  out  alone.  What  are  her  jDeople? 
I'll  run — from  you,  you  know — and  see  her  safe  home. 
There's  such  an  infernal  lot  of  fellows  about ;  and  a  girl 
simply  bewitching  and  unprotected  !  I  ought  to  be  after 
her." 

Beauchamp  held  him  firmly  to  the  task  of  canvassing. 

"  Then  will  you  tell  me  where  she  lives  ?"  Palmet  stipu- 
lated. He  reproached  Beauchamp  for  a  notorious  Grand 
Turk  exclusiveness  and  greediness  in  regard  to  women,  as 
well  as  a  disposition  to  run  hard  races  for  them  out  of  a 
spirit  of  pure  rivalry. 

"  It's  no  use  contradicting,  it's  universally  known  of  you," 
reiterated  Palmet.  "  I  could  name  a  dozen  Avoraen,  and 
dozens  of  fellows  you  deliberately  set  yourself  to  cut  out,  for 
the  honour  of  it.  What's  that  story  they  tell  of  you  in  one 
i^f  the  American  cities  or  watering-places,  North  or  South  ? 
You  would  dance  at  a  ball  a  dozen  times  with  a  girl  engaged 
to  a  man — who  drenched  you  witli  a  tumbler  at  the  hotel 
bar,  and  off  you  all  marched  to  the  sandts  and  exchanged  shots 
from  revolvers;  and  both  of  you,  they  say,  saw  the  body  of  a 
drowned  sailor  in  the  water,  in  the  moonlight,  heaving  nearer 
and  nearer,  and  you  stretclied  your  man  just  as  the  body  was 
flung  up  hj  a  wave  between  you.     Picturesque,  if  yon  like!" 

"  Dramatic,  certainly.  And  I  ran  away  with  the  bride 
next  morning  ?" 

"No!"  roared  Palmet ;  "you  didn't.  There's  the  cruelty 
of  the  whole  affair." 

Beauchamp  laughed.  "An  old  messmate  of  mine.  Lieu- 
tenant Jack  Wilmore,  can  give  you  a  different  version  of  the 
story.  ■'I  never  have  fought  a  duel,  and  never  will.  Here  we 
are  at  the  shop  of  a  tough  voter,  Mr.  Oggler.  So  it  says  in 
my  note-book.  Shall  we  put  Lord  Palmet  to  speak  to  him 
first  ?" 

"  If  his  lordship  wdll  put  his  heart  into  what  he  says," 
Mr.  Oggler  bowed.  "  Are  you  for  giving  the  people  recrea- 
tion on  a  Sunday,  my  lord  ?" 

"Trap-bat    and    ball,    cricket,    dancing,    military    bands, 


LORD  PALMET.  155 

pnppet-sTiOTvs,  theatres,  merrj-go-rouncls,  bosky  dells  — any- 
tliiii,!j;-  to  make  them  happy,"  said  Palmet. 

"  Oh,  dear !  then  I"m  afraid  we  cannot  ask  yon  speak 
to  this  Mr.  Carpendike."     Oggler  shook  his  head. 

"  JJoes  the  fellow  want  the  people  to  be  miserable  ?" 

"  I'm  afraid,  my  lord,  he  would  rather  see  them  miser- 
able." 

They  introduced  themseh'es  to  Mr.  Carpendike  in  his 
shop.  He  was  a  flat-chested,  sallow  young  shoemaker,  with 
a  shelving  forehead,  who  seeing  three  gentlemen  enter  to 
him  recognized  at  once  with  a  practised  resignation  that 
they  had  not  come  to  order  shoe-leather,  though  he  would 
fain  have  shod  them,  being  needy  ;  but  it  was  not  the  design 
of  Providence  that  they  should  so  come  as  he  in  his  blind- 
ness would  have  had  them.  Admitting  this  he  wished  for 
noth^'ng. ' 

The  battle  witli  Cai-pendike  lasted  three-quai'ters  of  an 
hour,  during  which  he  was  chiefly  and  most  effectively 
silent.  Carpendike  would  not  vote  for  a  man  that  pro- 
posed to  open  museums  on  the  Sabbath  day.  The  striking 
simile  of  the  thin  end  of  the  wedge  was  recurred  to  by  him 
for  a  damning  illustration.  Captain  Beauchamp  might  be 
honest  in  putting  his  mind  on  most  questions  in  his  address, 
when  there  was  no  demand  upon  him  to  do  it ;  bat  honesty 
was  no  antidote  to  impiety.     Thus  Carpendike. 

As  to  Sunday  museuming  being  an  antidote  to  the  pot- 
house— no.  For  the  people  knew  the  frequenting  of  the 
pothouse  to  be  a  vice  ;  it  was  a  temptation  of  Satan  that 
often  in  overcoming  them  was  the  cause  of  their  flying  back 
to  grace :  whereas  museums  and  picture  galleries  were 
insidious  attractions  cloaked  by  the  name  of  virtue,  whereby 
they  were  allured  to  abandon  worship. 

Beauchamp  flew  at  this  young  monster  of  unreason : 
"  But  the  people  are  not  worshipping ;  they  are  idling  and 
sotting,  and  if  you  carry  your  despotism  farther  still,  and 
shut  them  out  of  every  shop  on  Sundays,  do  you  suppose 
you  promote  the  spirit  of  worship  ?  If  you  don't  revolt 
them  you  unman  them,  and  I  warn  you  we  can't  afford  to 
destroy  what  manhood  remains  to  us  in  England.  Look  at 
the  facts." 

He  flung  the  facts  at  Carpendike  with  the  natural  exag- 
geration of  them  which  eloquence   produces,  rather,   as    a 


156  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

rule,  to  assure  itself  in  passing  of  the  overwhelming  justice 
of  the  cause  it  pleads  than  to  deceive  the  adversaiy. 
Brewers'  beer  and  publicans'  beer,  wife-beatiugs,  the  homes 
and  the  blood  of  the  people,  were  matters  reviewed  to  the 
confusion  of  Sabbatarians. 

Carpendike  listened  with  a  bent  head,  upraised  ejes,  and 
brows  wrinkling  far  on  to  his  poll :  a  picture  of  a  mind 
entrenched  beyond  the  potentialities  of  mortal  assault.  He 
signified  that  he  had  spoken.  Indeed  Beauchamp's  reply 
was  vain  to  one  whose  argument  was  that  he  considered  the 
people  nearer  to  holiness  in  the  indulging  of  an  evil  pro- 
pensity than  in  satisfying  a  harmless  curiosity  and  getting 
a  recreation.  The  Sabbath  claimed  them  ;  if  they  wei-e 
disobedient,  Sin  ultimately  might  scourge  them  back  to  the 
fold,  but  never  if  they  were  permitted  to  regard  themselves 
as  innocent  in  their  backsliding  and  rebelliousness. 

Such  language  was  quite  new  to  Beauchamp.  The  par- 
sons he  had  spoken  to  were  of  one  voice  in  objecting  to  the 
pothouse.  He  appealed  to  Carpend ike's  humanity.  Car- 
pendike smote  him  with  a  text  from  Scripture. 

"  Devilish  cold  in  this  shop,"  muttered  Palmet. 

Two  not  flourishing  little  children  of  the  emaciated 
Puritan  burst  into  the  shop,  followed  by  their  mother, 
carrying  a  child  in  her  arms.  She  had  a  sad  look,  upon 
traces  of  a  past  fairness,  vaguely  like  a  snow  landscape  in 
the  thaw.  Palmet  stooped  to  toss  shillings  with  her  young 
ones,  that  he  might  avoid  the  woman's  face.  It  cramped 
his  heart. 

"  Don't  you  see,  Mr.  Carpendike,"  said  fat  Mr.  Oggler, 
"  it's  the  happiness  of  the  people  we  want ;  that's  what 
Captain  Beauchamp  works  for — their  happiness  ;  that's  the 
aim  of  life  for  all  of  us  Look  at  me !  I'm  as  happy  as  the 
day.  I  pray  every  night,  and  I  go  to  church  every  Sunday, 
;uid  I  never  know  what  it  is  to  be  unhappy.  The  Lord  has 
l)lessed  me  with  a  good  digestion,  healthy  pious  children, 
and  a  prosperous  shop  that's  a  competency — a  modest  one, 
but  I  make  it  satisfy  me,  because  I  know  it's  the  Lord's 
gift.  Well,  now,  and  I  hate  Sabbath-breakers ;  I  would 
punish  them ;  and  I'm  against  the  public-houses  on  a 
Sunday ;  but  aboard  my  little  yacht,  say  on  a  Sunday 
morning  in  the  Channel,  I  don't  forget  I  owe  it  to  the  Lord 
that  he  has  been  good  enough  to  put  me  in  the  way   of 


LOED  PAL^IET.  I. J 7 

keeping  a  yaclit;  no;  I  read  prayers  to  mj  crew,  and  a 
chapter  in  the  Bible — Genesis,  Deuteronomy,  Kings,  Acts, 
Paul,  just  as  it  conies.  All's  good  that's  there.  Then 
we're  free  for  the  day  !  man,  boy,  and  me  ;  we  cook  our 
victuals,  and  we  'iniist  look  to  the  yacht,  do  you  see.  But 
we've  made  our  peace  with  the  Almighty.  We  know  that. 
He  don't  mind  the  working  of  the  vessel  so  long  as  we've 
remembered  him.  He  put  us  in  that  situation,  exactly 
there,  latitude  and  longitude,  do  you  see,  and  work  the 
vessel  we  must.  And  a  glass  of  grog  and  a  pipe  after 
dinner,  can't  be  any  offence.  And  I  tell  you,  honestly  and 
sincerely,  I'm  sure  my  conscience  is  good,  and  I  really  and 
truly  don'i;  know  what  it  is  not  to  know  happiness." 

"  Then  you  don't  know  God,"  said  Carpendike,  like  a  voice 
from  a  cave. 

"  Or  nature  :  or  the  state  of  the  world,"  said  Beauchamp, 
singularly  impressed  to  find  himself  between  two  men,  of 
whom — each  perforce  of  his  tenuity  and  the  evident  leaning 
of  his  appetites — one  was  for  the  barren  black  view  of  exist- 
ence, the  other  for  the  fantastically  bright.  As  to  the  men 
personally,  he  chose  Carpendike,  for  all  his  obstinacy  and 
sourness.  Oggler's  genial  piety  made  him  shrink  with  nausea. 

But  Lord  Palmet  paid  Mr.  Oggler  a  memorable  compli- 
ment, by  assuring  him  that  he  was  altogether  of  his  way  of 
thinking  about  happiness. 

The  frank  young  nobleman  did  not  withhold  a  reference 
to  the  two  or  three  things  essential  to  his  happiness  ;  other- 
wise Mr.  Oggler  might  have  been  pleased  and  flattered. 

Before  quitting  the  shop,  Beauchamp  warned  Carpendike 
that  he  should  come  again.  "  Vote  or  no  vote,  you're  worth 
the  trial.  Texts  as  many  as  you  like.  I'll  make  your  faith 
active,  if  it's  alive  at  all.  You  speak  of  the  Lord  loving  his 
own  ;  you  make  out  the  Lord  to  be  your  own,  and  use  your 
religion  like  a  drug.  So  it  appears  to  me.  That  Sunday 
tyranny  of  yours  has  to  be  defended.  Remember  that ;  for 
I  for  one  shall  combat  it  and  expose  it.     Good  day." 

Beauchamp  continued,  in  the  street :  "  Tyi^annies  like  this 
fellow's  have  made  the  English  the  dullest  and  wretchedest 
people  in  Europe." 

Palmet  animadverted  on  Carpendike  :  "  The  dog  looks 
like  a  deadly  fungus  that  has  poisoned  the  woman." 

"  I'd  trust  him  with  a  post  of  danger,  though,"  said  Beau- 
champ. 


158  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAKEER. 

Before  the  candidate  had  opened  his  mouth  to  the  next 
elector  he  was  beamed  on.  M'Gilliper,  baker,  a  floured  In^'ck 
face,  leaned  on  folded  arms  across  his  counter  and  said,  in 
Scotch  :  "  My  vote  ?  and  he  that  asks  me  for  my  vote  is  the 
man  who,  when  he  was  midshipman,  saved  the  life  of  a  rela- 
tion of  mine  from  death  by  drowning! — my  wife's  first  cousin, 
Johnn}^  Brownson — and  held  him  up  four  to  five  minutes  in 
the  water,  and  never  left  him  till  he  was  out  of  danger! 
There's  my  hand  on  it,  I  will,  and  a  score  of  householders 
in  Bevisham  the  same."  He  dictated  precious  names  and 
addresses  to  Beauchamp,  and  was  curtly  thanked  for  his 
pains. 

Such  treatment  of  a  favourable  voter  seemed  odd  to  Palmet. 

"  Oh,  a  vote  given  for  reasons  of  sentiment!"  Beauchamp 
interjected. 

Palmet  reflected  and  said:  "Well,  perhaps  that's  how  it 
is  women  don't  care  uncommonly  for  the  men  wlio,lo.Y£L-them, 
though  they  like  ])recious  well  to  be  loved.     Oppositiorudoes 

it:' 

"  You  have  discovered  my  likeness  to  women,"  said  Beau- 
champ, eyein:^'  him  critically,  and  then  thinking,  with  a 
sudden  warmth,  that  he  had  seen  Renee  :  "Look  here,  Pal- 
met, you're  too  late  for  Itchincope,  to-day  ;  come  and  eat 
(ish  and  meat  with  me  at  my  hotel,  and  come  to  a  meeting 
aftei;  it.  You  can  run  by  rail  to  Itchincope  to  breakfast  in 
the  morning,  and  I  ma}'-  come  with  you.  You'll  hear  one  or 
two  men  speak  well  to-night." 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  be  at  this  business  myself  some 
day,"  sighed  Palmet.  "  Any  Avomen  on  the  platform  ?  Oh, 
but  political  women  !  And  the  Tories  get  the  pick  of  the 
women.  Xo.  I  don't  think  I'll  stay.  Yes,  I  will  ;  I'll  go 
through  \Aith  it.  I  like  to  be  learning  something.  You 
wouldn't  think  it  of  me,  Beauchamp,  but  I  envy  fellows  at 
w^ork." 

"  You  might  make  a  speech  for  me,  Palmet." 

"  No  man  better,  my  dear  fellow,  if  it  wore  proposing  a 
toast  to  the  poor  devils  and  asking  them  to  drink  it.  But  a 
dry  speech,  like  leading  them  over  the  de  ert  without  a  well 
to  cheer  them — no  oasis,  as  we  used  to  call  a  five-pound  note 
and  a  holiday — I  haven't  the  heart  for  that.  Is  your  Miss 
Denham  a  Piadical  ?" 

Beauchamp  asserted  that  he  had  not  yet  met  a  woman  at 
all  incliniuo-  in  the  direction  of   Radicalism.     "  I  don't  call 


LOED  PALMET.  159 

furies  Radicals.     There  may  be  women  wlio  tliinlc  as  T^ell  as 
feel  ;  I  don't  know  tliem." 

"  Lots  of  them,  Bcauchamp.  Take  my  word  lor  it.  I  do  ' 
know  women.  They  haven't  a  shift,  nor  a  trick,  I  don't 
know.  They're  as  clear  to  me  as  glass.  I'll  wager  your- 
Miss  Denham  goes  to  the  meetings.  Xow,  doesn't  siie  ?  Of 
course  she  does.  And  there  couldn't  be  a  gallanter  way  of 
spending  an  evening,  so  I'll  try  it.  Xothing  to  repent  of 
next  morning!  That's  to  be  said  for  politics,  Beauchamp. 
and  I  confess  I'm  rather  jealous  of  you,  A  thorouglily  gojd- 
looking  girl  who  takes  to  a  fellow  for  what  he's  doing  in  the 
world,  must  have  ideas  of  him  j)recious  different  from  the 
adoration  of 'six  feet  three  and  a  fine  scat  in  the  saddle.  I 
see  that.  There's  Baskelett  in  the  Blues  ;  and  if  I  were  he 
I  should  detest  my  cuirass  and  helmet,  for  if  he's  half  as 
successful  as  he  boasts — it's  the  uniform." 

Two  notorious  Radicals,  Peter  Molyneax  and  Samuel  Kil- 
lick,  were  called  on.  The  first  saw  Beauchamp  and  refused 
him;  the  second  declined  to  see  him.  He  was  amazed  and 
staggered,  but  said  little. 

Among  the  remainder  of  the  electors  of  Bevisham,  roused 
that  day  to  a  sense  of  their  independence  by  the  summons 
of  the  candidates,  only  one  man  made  himself  conspicuous, 
by  premising  that  he  had  two  important  questions  to  ask, 
and  he  trusted  Commander  Beauchamp  to  answer  then^  un- 
reservedly. They  were:  first,  What  is  a  Fkexch  Marquees? 
and  second  :  Who  was  Eurydicey  ? 

Beauchamp  referred  him  to  the  Tory  camp,  whence  the 
placard  alluding  to  those  ladies  had  issued. 

"  Both  of  them's  ladies  !     I  guessed  it,"  said  the  elector. 

"  Did  you  guess  that  one  of  them  is  a  mythological 
lady  ?" 

"  I'm  not  far  wrong  in  guessing  tother's  not  much  better, 
I  reckon.  Now,  sir,  may  I  ask  you,  is  there  any  tale  con- 
cerning your  morals  ?" 

"  No  :  you  may  not  ask  ;  you  take  a  liberty." 

"  Then  I'll  take  the  liberty  to  postpone  talking  about  my 
vote.  Look  here,  Mr.  Commander;  if  the  upper  classes  want 
anything  of  me  and  come  to  me  for  it,  I'll  know  what  sort 
of  an  example  they're  setting;  now  that's  me." 

"You  pay  attention  to  a  stu])id  Tory  squib  ?" 

**  Where  there's  smoke  thei'e's  fire,  sir." 


160  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Beauchamp  glanced  at  his  note-book  for  the  name  of  this 
man,  who  was  a  ragman  and  dnstman. 

"  My  private  character  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 
my  politics,"  he  said,  and  had  barely  said  it  when  he  remem- 
bered having  spoken  somewhat  differently,  upon  the  abstract 
consideration  of  the  case,  to  Mr.  Tomlinson.  "You're  quite 
welcome  to  examine  my  character  for  yourself,  only  I  don't 
consent  to  be  catechized.     Understand  that." 

"  You  quite  understand  that,  Mr.  Tripehallow,"  said 
Oggler,  bolder  in  taking  up  the  strange  name  than  Beau- 
champ  had  been. 
_"I  understand  that.  Bat  you  understand,  there's  never 
been  a  word  against  the  morals  of  Mr.  Cougham.  Here's 
the  point :  Do  we  mean  to  be  a  moral  country  ?  Very  well, 
then  so  let  our  representatives  be,  I  say.  And  if  I  hear 
nothing  against  your  morals,  Mr.  Commander,  I  don't  say 
yoa  shan't  have  my  vote.  I  mean  to  deliberate.  You  young 
nobs  capering  over  our  heads — I  nail  you  down  to  morals. 
Politics  secondary.  Adew,  as  the  dying  spirit  remarked  to 
weeping  friends." 

"  Au  revoir — would  have  been  kinder,"  said  Palmet. 

Mr.  Tripehallow  smiled  roguishly,  to  betoken  comprehen- 
sion. 

Beauchamp  asked  Mr.  Oggler  whether  that  fellow  was  to 
be  taken  for  a  humourist  or  a  five-pound-note  man. 

"  It  may  be  both,  sir.  I  know  he's  called  Morality 
Joseph." 

An  all  but  acknowledged  five-pound- note  man  was  the 
last  they  visited.  He  cut  short  the  preliminaries  of  the 
interview  by  saying  that  he  was  a  four-o'clock  man  ;  i.e.  the 
man  who  waited  for  the  final  bids  to  him  upon  the  closing 
hour  of  the  election  day. 

"  xNot  one  farthing  !"  said  Beauchamp,  having  been  warned 
beforehand  of  the  signification  of  the  phrase  by  his  canvass- 
ing lieutenant. 

"  Then  you're  nowhere,"  the  honest  fellow  replied  in  the 
m^'stic  tongue  of  prophecy. 

Palmet  and  Beauchamp  went  to  their  fish  and  meat; 
smoked  a  cigarette  or  two  afterward,  conjured  away  the 
smell  of  tobacco  from  their  persons  as  well  as  they  could, 
and  betook  themselves  to  the  assembly-room  of  the  Liberal 
party,  where  the  young  lord  had  an  opportunity  of  beholding^ 


LORD  PALMET.  161 

Mr.  Cougliam,  and  of  listening  to  him  for  an  hour  and  forty 
minutes.  He  heard  Mr.  Timothy  Tiirbot  likewise.  And 
Miss  Denham  was  present.  Lord  Palmet  applauded  when 
she  smiled.  When  she  looked  attentive  he  was  deeply 
studious.  Her  expression  of  fatigue  under  the  sonorous  ring 
of  statistics  poured  out  from  Cougham  was  translated  by 
Palmet  into  yawns  and  sighs  of  a  profoundly  fraternal  sym- 
pathy. Her  fnce  quickened  on  the  rising  of  Beauchamp  to 
speak.  She  kept  eye  on  him  all  the  while,  as  Palmet,  with 
the  skill  of  an  adept  in  disgaising  his  petty  laiceny  of  the 
optics,  did  on  her.  Twice  or  thrice  she  looked  pained : 
Beauchamp  was  hesitating  for  the  word.  Once  she  looked 
startled  ancT  shut  her  eyes  :  a  hiss  had  sounded  ;  Beauchamp 
sprang  on  it  as  if  enlivened  by  hostility,  and  dominated  the 
factious  note.  Theieat  she  turned  to  a  gentleman  sitting 
beside  her  ;  apparently  they  agreed  that  some  incident  had 
occurred  characteristic  of  Nevil  Beauchamp  ;  for  whom, 
however,  it  was  not  a  brilliant  evening.  He  was  very  well 
able  to  account  for  it,  and  did  so,  after  he  had  walked  a  few 
steps  with  Miss  Denham  on  her  homeward  way. 

"  You  heard  Cougham,  Palmet !  He's  my  senior,  and  I'm 
obliged  to  come  second  to  him,  and  how  am  I  to  have  a 
chance  when  he  has  drenched  the  audience  for  close  upon  a 
couple  of  hours  !" 

Palmet  mimicked  the  manner  of  Cougham. 

"  They  cry  for  Turbot  naturally ;  they  want  a  relief," 
Beauchamp  groaned, 

Palmet  gave  an  imitation  of  Timothy  Turbot. 

He  was  an  admirable  mimic,  perfectly  spontaneous,  with- 
out stressing  any  points,  and  Beauchamp  was  provoked  to 
laugh  his  discontentment  with  the  evening  out  of  recollec- 
tion. 

But  a  grave  matter  troubled  Palmet's  head. 

"  Who  was  that  fellow  who  walked  off  with  Miss 
Denham  ?" 

"  A  married  man,"  said  Beauchamp :  "  badly  married ; 
more's  the  pity ;  he  has  a  wife  in  the  madhouse.  His  name 
is  Lydiard." 

"  Not  her  brother  !     Where's  her  uncle  ?  " 

"  She  won't  let  him  come  to  these  meetings.  It's  hei 
idea;  well  intended,  but  wrong,  I  think.     She's  afraid  that 

M 


1G2  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

Dr.  Shrapnel  vrill  alarm  the  moderate  Liberals  and  damage 
Eadical  me." 

i-alinet  muttered  between  his  teeth,  "  What  queer  things 
they  let  their  women  do  !"  He  felt  compelled  to  say,  "  Odd 
for  her  to  be  walking  home  at  night  with  a  fellow  like 
that." 

It  chimed  too  consonantly  with  a  feeling  of  Beauchamp's, 
to  repress  which  he  replied,  "'  Your  ideas  about  women  are 
simply  barbarous,  Palmet.  Why  shouldn't  she  ?  Her  uncle 
places  his  confidence  in  the  man,  and  in  her.  Isn't  that 
better — ten  times  more  likely  to  call  out  the  sense  of  honour 
and  loyalty,  than  the  distrust  and  the  scandal  going  on  in 
your  class  ?" 

"  Please  to  say  yours  too." 

"  I've  no  class.  I  wvy  thatlhe  education  for  women  is  to 
teach  them  to  rely  on  themselves.'' 

"  Ah !  well,  I  don't  object,  if  I'm  the  man." 

"  Because  you  and  your  set  are  absolutely  uncivilized  in 
your  views  of  women." 

"  Common  sense,  Brauchamp  !" 

"  Prey.  You  eye  tliem  as  ]>rey.  And  it  comes  of  an  idle 
aristocracy.  You  have  no  faith  in  them,  and  they  repay  you 
for  your  suspicion." 

"  All  the  same,  Beauchamp,  she  ought  not  to  be  allowed 
to  go  about  at  night  with  that  fellow.  '  Bich  and  rai-e  were 
the  gems  she  wore  :  '  but  that  was  in  Erin's  isle,  and  if  we 
knew  the  whole  history,  she'd  better  have  stopped  at  home. 
She's  marvellously  pretty,  to  my  mind.  She  looks  a  high- 
bred wench.  Odd  it  is,  Beauchamp,  to  see  a  lady's-maid 
now  and  then  catch  the  style  of  my  lady.  Xo,  by  Jove  I 
I've  known  one  or  two — you  couldn't  tell  the  diii'erence  ! 
Xot  till  you  were  intimate.  I  know  one  would  walk  a  minuet 
with  a  duchess.  Of  course — all  the  worse  for  her.  If  you 
see  that  uncle  of  Miss  Denham's — upon  my  honour,  I  should 
advise  him  :  I  mean,  counsel  him  not  to  trust  her  with  any 
felloAv  but  you." 

Beauchamp  asked  Lord  Palmet  how  old  he  was. 

Palmet  gave  his  age  ;  correcting  the  figures  from  six-aud- 
twenty  to  one  year  more.  "  And  never  aid  a  stroke  of  work 
in  my  life,"  he  said,  speaking  genially  out  of  an  acute  gues? 
at  the  sentiments  of  the  man  he  walked  with. 

It  seemed  a  fai-cical  state  of  things. 


A  DAY  AT  ITCHINCOPE.  163 

There  vras  a  kind  of  contrition  in  Palmet's  voice,  and  to 
pnt  liim  at  liis  ease,  as  well  as  to  stamp  something  in  his 
own  mind,  Beauchamp  said  :  "  It's  common  enough." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A   DAY   AT    ITCHIXCOPE. 


An  election  in  Bevisham  was  always  an  exciting  period  at 
Itchincope,  the  large  and  influential  old  estate  of  theLespels, 
which  at  one  time,  with  but  a  ceremonious  drive  through  the 
town,  sent  you  two  good  Whig  men  to  Parliament  to  sit  at 
Keform  banquets ;  two  unswerving  party  men,  blest  sub- 
scribers to  the  right  Review,  and  personally  proud  of  its 
trenchancy.  Mr  Grancey  Lespel  was  the  survivor  of  them, 
and  well  could  he  remember  the  happier  day  of  his  grand- 
father, his  father,  and  his  own  hot  youth.  He  could  be  car- 
ried so  far  by  affectionate  regrets  as  to  think  of  the  Tories 
of  that  day  benignly  : — when  his  champion  Review  of  the 
orange  and  blue  livery  waved  a  wondrous  sharp  knife,  and 
stuck  and  bled  them,  proving  to  his  party,  by  trenchancy 
alone,  that  the  Whig  was  the  cause  of  Providence.  Then 
politics  presented  you  a  table  whereat  two  parties  feasted, 
with  no  fear  of  the  intrusion  of  a  third,  and  your  backs  were 
turned  on  the  noisy  lower  world,  your  ears  Avere  deaf  to  it. 

Apply  we  now  the  knocker  to  the  door  of  venerable  Quota- 
tion, and  call  the  aged  creature  forth,  that  he,  half  choked  by 
his  eheu ! — 

"  A  sound  between  a  sigh  and  bray," 

may   pronounce    the    familiar   but    respectable    words,    the 
burial-service  of  a  time  so  happy  ! 

Mr.  Grancey  Lespel  would  still  have  been  sitting  for 
Bevisham  (or  politely  at  this  elective  moment  bowing  to 
resume  the  seat)  had  not  those  Manchester  ji  gglers  caught 
up  his  cry,  appropriated  his  colours,  displaced  and  imper- 
Bonated  him,  acting  beneficent  Whig  on  a  scale  apiDroaching 
treason  to  the  Constitution;  leaning  on  the  people  in  earnest, 

m2 


164  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

instead  of  talcing'  the  popular  shoulder  for  a  temporary  lift, 
all  in  high  part}-  policy,  for  the  clever  manoeuvre,  to  oust 
the  Toiy  and  sway  the  realm.  See  the  consequences.  For 
power,  for  no  otlier  consideration,  those  manufacturing 
rascals  have  raised  Radicalism  from  its  primeval  mire — 
from  its  petty  backslum  bookseller's  shop  and  public-house 
back-parlour  effluvia  of  oratory — to  issue  dictates  in  Eng- 
land, and  we,  England,  formerly  the  oak,  are  topsy-turvy, 
like  onions,  our  heels  in  the  air ! 

The  language  of  party  is  eloquent,  and  famous  for  being 
grand  at  illustration;  but  it  is  equally  well  known  that 
much  of  it  gives  us  humble  ideas  of  the  sj:)eakcr,  probably 
because  of  the  naughty  temper  party  is  prone  to  ;  which, 
while  endowing  it  with  vehemence,  lessens  the  stout  circum- 
ferential view  thai  should  be  taken,  at  least  historically. 
Indeed,  though  we  admit  party  to  be  tlie  soundest  method 
for  conducting  us,  party  talk  soon  expends  its  nttractiveness, 
as  w^ould  a  summer's  afternoon  given  up  to  the  contempla- 
tion of  an  encounter  of  rams'  heads.  Let  us  be  quit  of  Mr. 
Grance}'^  Lespel's  lamentations.  The  Whig  gentleman  had 
some  reason  to  complain.  He  had  been  trained  to  expect  no 
other  attack  than  that  of  his  hereditary  adversary-ram  in 
front,  and  a  sham  ram — no  honest  animal,  but  a  ramming- 
e'ngine  rather—  had  attacked  him  in  the  rear.  Like  j\Ir. 
Everard  Romfrey  and^  other  Whigs,  he  was  profoundly 
chagrined  by  popular  ingratitude  :  "  not  the  same  man,"  his 
wife  said  of  him.  It  nipped  him  earl}-.  He  took  to  'pro- 
verbs ;  sure  sign  of  the  sere  leaf  in  a  man's  mind. 

His  w^ife  reproached  the  people  for  tlieir  behaviour  to  him 
oitterly.  The  lad}^  regarded  politics  as  a  business  that 
helped  hunting-men  a  stage  above  sportsmen,  for  numbers  of 
the  i^oliticians  she  was  ac(]^uainted  with  were  hunting-men, 
yet  something  more  by  virtue  of  the  variety  they  could 
introduce  into  a  conversation  ordinarily  treating  of  sport 
and  the  qualities  of  wines.  Her  husband  seemed  to  have 
lost  in  that  Parliamentary  seat  the  talisman  which  gave  him 
notions  distinguishing  him  from  country  squires ;  he  had 
sunk,  and  he  no  longer  cared  for  the  months  in  London,  nor 
for  the  speeches  she  read  to  him  to  re-awaken  his  mind  and 
make  him  look  out  of  liimself,  as  he  had  done  when  he  was  a 
younger  man  and  not  a  suspended  Whig.  Her  own  favourite 
reading  was  of  love-adventures  written  in  the  French  tongue 


A  DAY  AT  ITCHINCOPE.  165 

She  "had  once  been  in  love,  and  could  be  so  sympatbetic  with 
that  }  assion  as  to  avow  to  Cecilia  Halkett  a  tenderness  for 
Xevil  Bcauchamji,  on  account  of  his  i-elations  v^'ith  the  Mar- 
fjuiso  de  E-ouaillout,  and  notwithstanding  the  demoniacal 
flame-halo  of  the  Radical  encircling  him. 

The  allusion  to  Beauchamp  occurred  a  few  hours  after 
Cecilia's  arrival  at  Itchincope. 

Cecilia  b^'u-ged  for  the  French  lady's  name  to  be  repeated; 
she  had  not  lioard  it  before,  and  she  tasted  the  strange  bitter 
relish  of  reiilization  when  it  struck  her  ear  to  confirm  a 
story  that  she  believed  indeed,  but  had  not  quite  sensibly 
felt. 

"And  it  is  not  over  yet,  they  say,"  Mrs.  Grancey  Lespel 
added,  while  softly  flipping  some  spots  of  the  colour  proper 
to  radicals  in  morals  on  the  fame  of  the  French  lady.  She 
possessed  fully  the  grave  judicial  spirit  of  her  country- 
women, and  could  sit  in  judgement  on  the  personages  of 
tales  which  had  entranced  her,  to  condemn  the  heroines :  it 
was  impolitic  in  her  sex  to  pity  females.  As  for  the  men — 
poor  weak  things  !  As  for  Nevil  Beauchamp,  in  particular, 
his  case,  this  penetrating  lady  said,  was  clear:  he  ought  to 
be  married.  "  Could  you  make  a  sacrifice  ?"  she  asked 
Cecilia  playfully. 

"  i^evil  Beauchamp  and  I  are  old  friends,  but  we  have 
agreed  that  we  are  deadly  political  enemies,"  Miss  Halkett 
replied. 

"  It  is  not  so  bad  for  a  beginning,"  said  Mrs.  Lespel. 
"  Tf  one  were  disposed  to  martyrdom." 
The  older  woman  nodded.     "  Without  that." 
''My  dear  Mfs.  Lespel,  wait  till  you  have  heard  him.     He 
is  at  war  with  everything  we  venerate  and  build  on.     The 
wiie_„you  would  give-4iimr.shoaild  be  a  creature  rooted  "in 
nothiiigr:r:r-in.-aearwat©¥r.    Simply  two  or  three  conversations 
witli   him  have  made  me  uncomfortable  ever  since  ;  I  can 
see  nothing  durable;  I  dream  of  surprises,  outbreaks,  dread- 
ful events.     At  least  it  is  perfectly  true  that  I  do  not  look 
with  the  same  eyes  on  my  counti-y.     He  seems  to  delight  in 
destroying  one's  peaceful  contemplation  of  life.     The  truth 
is  that  he  blows   a  perpetual   gale,  and  is    all    agitation," 
Cecilia  concluded,  affecting  with  a  smile  a  slight  shiver. 

"  Yes,  one  tires  of  that,"  said  Mrs.  Lespel.     "  I  was  deter- 
mined I  would  liave  him  here  if  we  could  get  him  to  come 


0^ 


16G  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Graiicey  objected.  We  shall  have  to  manage  Captain  Beau- 
champ  and  the  rest  as  well.  He  is  sure  to  couie  late  to- 
morrow, and  will  leave  early  on  Tliursdav  morning  for  his 
canvass;  our  driving  into  Bevisham  is  for  Friday  or  Saturday. 
I  do  not  see  that  lie  need  have  any  suspicions.  Those  verses 
you  are  so  angrj^  about  cannot  be  traced  to  Itchincope.  ]My 
dear,  they  are  a  childish  trifle.  When  my  husband  stood 
first  for  Bevisham,  the  whole  of  his  University  life  appen  red 
in  print.  What  we  have  to  do  is  to  forewarn  the  gentlemen 
to  be  guarded,  and  especially  in  what  they  say  to  my 
nephew  Lord  Palniet,  for  that  boy  cannot  keep  a  secret ;  he 
is  as  open  as  a  jDlate." 

"  The  smoking-room  at  night?"  Cecilia  suggested,  remem- 
bering her  father's  words  about  Itchincope's  tobacco-hall. 

"  They  have  Captain  Beauchamp's  address  hung  up  there, 
I  have  heard,"  said  Mrs.  Lespel.  "  There  may  be  other 
things — another  address,  though  it  is  not  yet  placarded. 
Conij  with  me.  For  fifteen  years  I  have  never  once  put  my 
head  into  that  room,  and  now  I've  a  superstitious  fear  about 
it." 

Mrs.  Lespel  led  the  way  to  the  deserted  smoking-room, 
where  the  stale  reek  of  tobacco  assailed  the  ladies,  as  does 
that  dire  place  of  Customs  the  stranger  visiting  savage  (oi- 
too-natural)  potentates. 

In  silence  they  tore  down  from  the  wall  Beauchamp's 
electoral  Address — flanked  all  its  length  with  satirical  pen 
and  pencil  comments  and  sketches ;  and  they  consigned  to 
flames  the  vast  sheet  of  animated  ver,«es  relating  to  the 
French  Marquees.  A  quarter-size  chalk-diawing  of  a  slip- 
pered pantaloon  having  a  duck  on  his  slio  alder,  labelled  to 
say  "  Quack-quack,"  and  offering  our  nauseated  Dame 
Britannia  (or  else  it  was  the  widow  Bevisham)  a  globe  of  a 
pill  to  swallow,  crossed  with  the  consolatory  and  reassuring 
name  of  Shrapnel,  the}^  disposed  of  likewise.  And  then  they 
("cd,  chased  forth  either  by  the  brilliancy  of  the  politically 
allusive  epigrams  profusely  inscribed  around  them  on  the 
walls,  or  by  the  atmosphere.  Mrs.  Lespel  gave  her  ordei-s 
for  the  walls  to  be  scraped,  and  said  to  Cecilia  :  "  A  strange 
air  to  breathe,  was  it  not  ?  The  Jess  men  and  women  know., 
of  one  another,  the  happier  for  them.  I  knew  my  supersti- 
tion was  cori'cct  as  a  guide  to  me.  I  do  so  mu'-li  ^vish  lo 
respect  men,  and  all  my  experience  tells  me  the  Turks  £now"" 


A  DAY  AT  ITCHmCOPH.  167 

best  tow  to  preserve  it  f oi\^jas^„_JLw.Q..  men  in  this  hop se 
tronld  give  their  wives  for  pipes,  if_  it  came  to  the  choice. 
We  inight  all  go  for  a.  cellar  of  old  wine...  After  forty,  men 
have  married  their  habits,  and  ^^ives  are  only  an  item  in  the 
list,  and  not  the  most  important." 

With  the  assistance  of  Mr.  Stukclj  Cnlbrett,  ]Mrs.  Lespel 
]>repared  the  house  and  those  of  the  company  who  were  in 
ihe  secret  of  afi'airs  for  the  arrival  of  BeanchamjD.  The 
ladies  were  curious  to  see  him.  The  gentlemen,  not  antici- 
pating extreme  amusement,  were  calm :  for  it  is  an  axiom  in 
the  world  of  buckskins  and  billiard-cues,  that  one  man  is 
^  ery  like  another;  and  so  true  is  it  with  them,  that  they  can 
in  time  teach  it  to  the  sex.  Friends  of  Cecil  Baskelett  pre- 
dominated, and  the  absence  of  so  sprightly  a  fellow  was 
regretted  seriously ;  but  he  w^as  shooting  with  his  uncle  at 
Iloldesbury,  and  they  did  not  exjoect  him  before  Thursday. 

On  \Yednesday  morning  Lord  Palmet  presented  himself  at 
a  remarkably  well-attended  breakfast-table  at  Itchincope. 
He  passed  from  Mrs.  Les])el  to  Mrs.  Wardour-Devereux  and 
Miss  Halkett,  bowed  to  other  ladies,  shook  hands  with  two 
or  three  men,  and  nodded  over  the  heads  of  half-a-dozcn, 
accounting  rather  mysteriously  for  his  delay  in  coming,  it 
was  thought,  until  he  sat  down  before  a  plate  of  Yorkshire 
pie,  and  said :  "  The  fact  is  I've  been  canvassing  hard. 
With  Beauchamp  !  " 

Astonishment  and  laughter  surrounded  him,  and  Palmet 
lOoked  from  face  to  face,  equally  astonished,  and  desirous  to 
laugh  too. 

"  Ernest !  how  could  you  do  that  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Lespel ;  and 
her  husband  cried  in  stupefaction.  "  With  Beauchamp  ?  " 

"  Oh !  it's  because  of  the  Radicalism,"  Palmet  murmured 
to  himself.     "  I  didn't  mind  that." 

"  What  sort  of  a  day  did  you  have  ?  "  Mr.  Culbrett  asked 
him  ;  and  several  gentlemen  fell  upon  him  for  an  account  of 
the  day. 

Palmet  grimaced  over  a  mouthful  of  his  pie. 

"  Bad !  "  quoth  Mr.  Le.-pel  ;  "  I  knew  it.  I  know 
Bevisham.  The  only  chance  there  is  for  five  thousand 
pounds  in  a  sack  with  a  hole  in  it." 

"  Bad  for  Beauchamp  ?  Dear  me,  no  ;  "  Palmet  corrected 
the  error.  "  He  is  carrying  all  before  him.  And  he  tells 
them,"  Palmet  mimicked  Beauchamp,  "they  shall  not  have 


168  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

one  penny:  not  a  farthing.  I  gave  a  couple  of  youug  ones  a 
sliilling  apiece,  and  lie  rowed  me  for  bribej-j  ;  somehow  1  did 
wrong." 

Lord  Palmet  described  the  various  unearthly  characu  rs 
he  had  inspected  in  their  dens :  Carpendike,  Tripehallow, 
and  the  radicals  Peter  Molyneux  and  Samuel  Killick,  and 
the  ex-member  for  tlu  boi'ough,  Coagham,  posing  to  suit 
sign-boards  of  Liberal  inns,  with  a  haud  thrust  in  his  waist- 
coat, and  his  head  well  up,  the  eyes  running  over  the  under 
lids,  after  the  traditional  style  of  our  aristocracy ;  but 
perhaps  more  closely  resembling  an  urchin  on  tiptoe  peer- 
ing above  park-palings.  Cougham's  remark  to  Beauchanip, 
heard  and  repeated  by  Palmet  with  the  objecr  of  giving  an 
example  of  the  senior  Liberal's  phraseology  :  "  I  was  necessi- 
tated to  vacate  my  town  mansion,  to  my  material  discomfort 
and  that  of  my  wife,  whose  equipage  I  have  been  compelled 
to  take,  by  your  premature  canvass  of  the  borough,  Capiain 
Beauchamp  :  and  now,  I  hear,  on  undeniable  authority,  that 
no  second  opponent  to  us  will  be  forthcoming  :  " — this  pro- 
duced the  greatest  effect  on  the  company. 

"  But  do  you  tell  me,"  said  Mr.  Lespel,  when  the  shouts 
of  the  gentlemen  were  subsiding,  "  do  you  tell  me  that  young 
Beauchamp  is  going  ahead  ?  " 

"  That  he  is.  They  flock  to  him  in  the  street." 
"He  stands  there,  then,  and  jingles  a  money-bag.'* 
Palmet  resumed  his  mimicry  of  Beauchamp  :  "  Not  a 
stiver  ;  purity  of  election  is  the  first  condition  of  instruction 
to  the  people !  Principles  !  Then  they've  got  a  capital 
orator:  Turbot,  an  Irishman.  I  went  to  a  meeting  last 
night,  and  Heard  him  ;  never  heard  anything  finer  in  my 
life.  You  may  laugh — he  whipped  me  off  my  legs  ;  fellow 
spun  me  like  a  top ;  and  while  he  was  oiationing,  a  donkey 
calls,  '  Turbot !  ain't  you  a  flat  fish  ?  '  and  he  swings  round, 
'  Not  for  a  fool's  hook! '  and  out  they  hustled  the  villain  for 
a  Tory.     I  never  saw  anything  like  it." 

"  That  repartee  wouldn't  have  done  with  a  Dutchman  or  a 
Torbay  trawler,"  said  Stukely  Culbrett.  "  But  let  us  hear 
more." 

"Is  it  fair?"  Miss  Halkett  murmured  anxiously  to  Mrs. 
Lespel,  who  returned  a  flittinc>'  shrug. 

''  Charming  women  follow  Beauchamp,  you  know,"'  Palmet 
proceeded,  as  he  conceived,  to  confirm  and  heighten  the  tale 


t? 


A  DAY  AT  ITCHINCOPE.  169 

of  success.  "  There's  a  Miss  Denham,  niece  of  a  doctor,  a 
Dr.  .  .  .  Shot — Shrapnel!  a  wonderfallj  ^ood-looking, 
clerer-looking  girl,  comes  across  him  in  half-a-dozen  streets 
to  ask  how  he's  getting  on,  and  goes  every  night  to  his 
meetings,  with  a  man  who's  a  writer  and  has  a  mad  wife;  a 
m:in  named  Lydia — no,  that's  a  woman — Lydiard.  It's 
rather  a  jumble  ;  but  you  should  see  her  when  Beauchamp's 
on  his  legs  and  speaking." 

"]Mr.  Lydiard  is  in  Bevisham?"  Mrs.  Wardour-Devereux 
remarked. 

"  I  know  the  girl,"  growled  Mr.  Lespel.  "  She  comes 
with  that  rascally  doctor  and  a  bobtail  of  tea-drinking  men 
and  women  and  their  brats  to  Northeden  Heath — my 
g-round.  There  they  stand  and  sing." 
"  Hymns  p  "  inquired  Mr.  Culbrett. 
"  I  don't  know  what  they  sing.  And  when  it  rains  they 
take  the  liberty  to  step  over  my  bank  into  my  plantation. 
Some  day  I  shall  have  them  stepping  into  my  house." 

"  Yes,  it's  ]\lr.  Lydiard  ;  I'm  sure  of  the  man's  name," 
Palmet  replied  to  Mrs.  Wardour-Devereux. 

'•  We  met  him  in  Spain  the  year  before  last,"  she  observed 
to  Cecilia. 

The  '  we  "  reminded  Palmet  that  her  husband  was  present. 
"  Ah,  Devereiix,  I  didn't  see  you,"  he  nodded  obliquely 
down  the  table.  "  By  the  way,  what's  the  grand  procession  ? 
I  hear  my  m.an  Davis  has  come  all  right,  and  I  caught 
sight  of  the  top  of  your  coach-box  in  the  stable-yard  as  I 
came  in.     What  are  we  up  to  ?  " 

"  Baskelett  writes,  it's  to  be  for  to-morrow  morning  at 
ten — the  start."  Mr.  Wardour-Devereux  addressed  the 
table  generally.  He  was  a  fair,  huge,  bush-bearded  man, 
with  a  voice  of  unvarying  bass  :  a  squire  in  his  county,  and 
energetic  in  his  pursuit  of  the  pleasures  of  hunting,  driving, 
travelling,  and  tobacco. 

"  Old  Bask's  the  captain  of  us  ?  Very  well,  but  where  do  we 
drive  the  teams  ?  How  many  are  we  ?  What's  in  hand  ?" 
Cecilia  threw  a  hurried  glance  at  hei-  hostess. 
Luckily  some  witling  said,  "  Fours-in-hand  ! "  and  so 
drilv  that  it  passed  for  humour,  and  gave  Mrs.  Lespel  time 
to  interpose.  "  You  are  not  to  know  till  to-morrow, 
Ernest." 

Palmet    had   traced  the  authorship    of  the    sally   to  j\Ir, 


170  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Algy  Borolick,  and  crowned  him  with  praise  for  it.  He 
asked,  "  Why  not  know  till  to-morrow  ?  "  A  word  in  a 
murmur  from  Mr.  Calbrett,  "Don't  frighten  the  women," 
satisfied  him,  though  why  it  should  he  could  not  have 
imagined. 

Mrs.  Lespel  quitted  the  breakfast-table  before  the  setting 
in  of  the  dangeioi:\s  five  minutes  of  convei-sation  over  its 
ruins,  and  spoke  to  her  husband,  who  contested  the  neces- 
sity for  secresy,  but  yielded  to  her  judgement  Avhen  it  was 
backed  by  Stukely  Culbrett.  Soon  after  Lord  Palmet 
found  himself  encountered  by  evasions  and  witticisms,  in 
spite  of  the  absence  of  the  ladies,  upon  every  attempt  he 
made  to  get  some  light  regarding  the  destination  of  the  four- 
in-hands  next  day. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  he  said  to  lS\v.  Devereux, 
thinking  him  the  lil'Ccliest  one  to  grow  confiden:ial  in 
private. 

"  Smoke,"  resounded  from  the  depths  of  that  gentleman. 

Palmet  recollected  the  ground  of  division  between  the 
beautiful  brunette  and  her  lord — his  addiction  to  the  pipe  in 
perpetuity,  and  deemed  it  sweeter  to  be  with  the  lady. 

She  and  Miss  Halkett  were  walking  in  the  garden. 

Miss  Halkett  said  to  him  :  "  How  wrong  of  you  to  betray 
the  secrets  of  your  friend  !     Is  he  really  making  way  ?" 

"  Beauchamp  will  head  the  poll  to  a  certainty,"  Palmet 
replied. 

"  Still,"  said  Miss  Halkett,  "  you  should  not  forget  that 
you  are  not  in  the  house  of  a  Liberal.  Did  you  canvass  in 
the  town  or  the  suburbs  ?" 

"  Everywhere.  I  assure  you,  Miss  Halkett,  there's  a 
feeling  for  Beauchamp — they're  in  love  with  him  !" 

"  He  promises  them  everything,  I  suppose  P" 

"  K'ot  he.  And  the  odd  thing  is,  it  isn't  the  Radicals  he 
catches.  He  won't  go  against  the  game  laws  for  them,  and 
he  won't  cut  down  army  and  navy.  So  the  Radicals  yell  at 
him.  One  confessed  he  had  sold  his  vote  for  five  pounds 
last  election  :  '  jon  shall  have  it  for  the  same,'  saj^s  he,  '  for 
you're  all  humbugs.'  Beauchamp  took  him  by  the  throat 
and  shook  him — metaphorically,  jou  know.  But  as  for  the 
tradesmen,  he's  their  hero;  bakers  especially." 

"  Mr.  Austin  may  be  right,  then !"  Cecilia  reflected 
aloud. 


A  DAY  AT  ITCHmCOPB.  171 

Slie  went  to  Mrs.  Lespel  to  repeat  wliat  slie  had  extracted 
from  Palmet,  after  warning  the  latter  not,  in  common 
loyalty,  to  converse  about  his  canvass  with  Beauchamp. 

"  Did  yon  speak  of  Mr.  Lydiard  as  Captain  Beauchamp's 
friend  ?"  Mrs.  Devereux  inquired  of  him. 

"  Lydiard  ?  why  he  was  the  man  who  made  off  with  that 
pretty  Miss  Denham,"  said  Palmet.  "I  have  the  greatest 
trouble  to  remember  them  all ;  but  it  was  not  a  day  wasted. 
Now  I  know  jDolitics.  Shall  we  ride  or  walk  ?  Yon  will 
let  me  have  the  happiness  ?  I'm  so  unlucky;  I  rarely  meet 
you." 

"  You  vv'ill  bring  Captain  Beauchamp  to  me  the  moment 
he  comes  r" 

"I'll  bring  him.  Bring  him  ?  Nevil  Beauchamp  won't 
want  bringing." 

Mrs.  Devereux  smiled  with  some  pleasure. 

Grancey  Lespel,  followed  at  some  distance  by  Mr.  Fer- 
brass,  the  Tory  lawyer,  stepped  quickly  up  to  Palmet,  and 
asked  whether  Beauchamp  had  seen  DoUikins,  the  brewer. 

Palmet  could  recollect  the  name  of  one  Tomlinson,  and 
also  the  calling  at  a  brewery.  Moreover,  Beauchamp  had 
uttered  contempt  of  the  brewer's  business,  and  of  the  social 
rule  to  accept  rich  brewers  for  gentlemen.  The  man's 
name  might  be  Dollikins  and  not  Tomlinson,  and  if  so,  it 
v.as  Dollikins  who  would  not  see  Beauchamp.  To  preserve 
his  political  importance,  Palmet  said,  "  Dollikins !  to  be 
sure,  that  was  the  man." 

"  Treats  him  as  he  does  you,"  Mr.  Lespel  turned  to  Fer- 
brass.  "  I've  sent  to  Dollikins  to  come  to  me  this  morning, 
if  he's  not  driving  into  the  town.  I'll  have  him  before 
Beauchamp  sees  him.  I've  asked  half-a-dozen  of  these 
country  gentlemen-tradesmen  to  lunch  at  mj  table  to-day." 

"  Tlien,  sir,"  observed  Ferbrass,  "if  they  are  men  to  be 
23ersnaded,  they  had  better  not  see  me." 

"True;  they're  my  old  supporters,  and  mightn't  like 
your  Tory  face,"  Mr.  Lespel  assented. 

Mr.  Ferbrass  congratulated  him  on  the  heartiness  of  his 
espousal  of  the  Tory  cause, 

Mr.  Lespel  winced  a  little,  and  told  him  not  to  put  his 
trust  in  that. 

"  Turned  Tory  ?"  said  Palmet. 

Mr.  Lespel  declined  to  answer. 


172  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAKEER. 

Palmet  said  to  Mrs.  Devereux,  "  He  thinks  I'm  not  worth 
speaking  to  npon  politics.  Now  I'll  give  him  some  Beau- 
champ  ;  I  learned  lots  yesterday." 

"  Then  let  it  be  in  Captain  Beanchamp's  manner,"  said 
she  softly. 

Palmet  obeyed  her  commands  with  the  liveliest  exhibition 
of  his  peculiar  faculty:  Cecilia,  rejoining  them,  seemed  to 
hear  Nevil  himself  in  his  emphatic  political  mood. — 
"  Because  the  Whigs  are  defunct !  They  had  no  root  in  the 
people  !  Whig  is  the  name  of  a  tribe  that  was  !  You  have 
Tory,  Liberal,  and  Radical.  There  is  no  place  for  Whig. 
He  is  played  out." 

"  Who  has  been  putting  that  nonsense  into  your  head  ?" 
Mr.  Lespel  retorted.     "  Go  shooting,  go  shooting  !" 

Shots  were  heard  in  the  woods.  Palmet  pricked  up  his 
ears ;  but  he  was  taken  out  riding  to  act  cavalier  to  Mrs. 
Devereux  and  Miss  Halkett. 

Cecilia  corrected  his  enthusiasm  with  the  situation.  "  Xo 
flatteries  to-day.  There  are  hours  when  women  feel  their 
insignificance  and  helplessness.  I  begin  to  fear  for  Mr. 
Austin;  and  I  find  I  can  do  nothing  to  aid  liim.  My  hands 
are  tied.  And  yet  I  know  I  could  win  voteis  if  only  it  wei-e 
permissible  for  me  to  go  and  speak  to  them." 

"  Win  them  !"  cried  Palmet,  imagining  the  alacrity  of 
men's  votes  to  be  won  by  her.  He  recommended  a  galloj) 
for  the  cha.sing  away  of  melancholy,  and  as  they  were  on 
the  Bevisham  high  road,  which  was  bordered  by  strips  of 
turf  and  heath,  a  few  good  stretches  brouglit  them  on  the 
fir-heights,  commanding  views  of  the  town  and  broad 
water. 

"  No,  I  cannot  enjoy  it,"  Cecilia  said  to  2urs.  Devereux  ; 
"  I  don't  mind  the  grey  light ;  clond  and  water,  and  half- 
tones of  colour,  are  homely  English  and  pleasant,  and  that 
opal  where  the  sun  should  be  has  a  suggestiveness  richer 
than  sunlight.  I'm  quite  northern  enough  to  understand 
it ;  but  with  me  it  must  be  either  peace  or  strife,  and  that 
Election  down  there  destroys  my  chance  of  peace.  I  never 
could  mix  reverie  with'  excitement ;  the  battle  must  be  over 
first,  and  the  dead  buried.     Can  you  r" 

Mrs.  Devereux  answered:  "Excitement?  I  am  not  sure 
tliat  I  know  what  it  is.     An  Election  does  not  excite  me." 

"There's  Nevil  Beauchamp  himself  !"'      Palmet  sung  out 


A  DAY  AT  ITCHINCOPE.  173 

and  the  ladies  discerned  Beau  champ  nnder  a  fir-tree,  do.\  n 
by  the  road,  not  alone.  A  man,  increasing  in  length  like  a 
telescope  gradually  reaching  its  end  for  observation,  iind 
coming  to  the  height  of  a  landmark,  as  if  raised  by  ropes, 
was  rising  from  the  ground  beside  him.  "  Shall  we  trot  on, 
Miss  Halkett  ?" 

Cecilia  said,  "  ISTo." 

"  Now  I  see  a  third  fellow,"  said  Palmet.  "  It's  the  other 
fellow^,  the  Denham — Shrapnel — Radical  meeting  .  .  .  -. 
Lydiard's  his  name  :  writes  books." 

"  We  may  as  w^ell  ride  on,"  Mrs.  Devereux  remarked,  and 
her  horse  fretted  singularly. 

Beauchamp  perceived  them,  and  lifted  his  hat.  Palmet 
made  demonstrations  for  the  ladies.  Still  neither  party 
moved  nearer. 

After  some  waiting,  Cecilia  proposed  to  turn  back. 

Mrs.  Devereux  looked  into  her  eyes.  "  I'll  take  the  lead," 
she  said,  and  started  forward,  pursued  by  Palmet.  Cecilia 
followed  at  a  sullen  canter. 

Before  they  came  up  to  Beaucha.mp,  the  long-shanked 
man  had  stalked  away  townward.  Lydiard  held  Beauchamp 
by  the  hand.  Some  last  w^ords,  after  the  manner  of  instruc- 
tions, passed  between  them,  and  then  Lydiard  also  turned 
away. 

"  I  say,  Beauchamp,  Mrs.  Devereux  wants  to  hear  who 
that  man  is,"  Palmet  said,  drawing  up. 

"  That  man  is  Dr.  Shrapnel,"  said  Bea^uchamp,  convinced 
that  Cecilia  had  checked  her  horse  at  the  sight  of  the  doctor. 

"Dr.  Shrapnel,"  Palmet  informed  Mrs.  Devereux. 

She  looked  at  him  to  seek  his  wits,  and  returning  Lcau- 
champ's  admiring  salutation  with  a  little  bow  and  smile, 
said,  "I  fancied  it  was  a  gentleman  we  met  in  Spain."' 

"  He  writes  books,"  observed  Palmet,  to  jog  a  slow  in- 
telligence. 

"  Pamphlets,  you  mean." 

"  I  think  he  is  not  a  pamphleteer,"  Mrs.  Devereux  said. 

"  Mr.  Lydiard,  then,  of  course ;  how  silly  I  am  !  How 
can  you  pardon  me!"  Beauchamp  was  contrite;  he  could 
not  explain  that  a  long  guess  he  had  made  at  Miss  Halkett'a 
reluctance  to  come  up  to  him  when  Dr.  Shrapnel  was  with 
him  had  preoccupied  his  mind.     He  sent  off  Palmet  the 


174  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

bearer  of  a  pretext  for  brino-iiig  Lydiard  back,  and  then  said 
to  Cecilia,  "  You  recognized  Dr.  Sb],;;>nel  ?" 

"  I  tbouglit  it  might  be  Dr.  Shra]»nel,"  she  was  candid 
enough  to  reply.  "  I  could  not  well  recno-nize  him,  not 
knowing  him." 

"Here  comes  Mr.  Lydiard;  and  let  me  assure  you,  if  I 
may  take  the  liberty  of  introd  icing  him.  he  is  no  true 
Radical.  He  is  a  philosopher — one  of  the  flirts,  the  butter- 
flies of  politics,  as  Dr.  Shrapnel  calls  them." 

BeauchamjD  hummed  over  some  improvized  trifles  to 
Lydiard,  then  introduced  him  cursorily,  and  ail  walked  in 
the  direction  of  Itchincope.  It  was  really  the  Mr.  Lydiard 
Mrs.  Devereux  had  met  in  Spain,  so  they  were  left  in  t'le 
rear  to  discuss  their  travels.  ^  Much  conversation  did  not  'vo 
on  in  front.  Cecilia  vras  very  reserved.  By-and-by  she  sai  I, 
"I  am  glad  you  have  come  into  the  country  early  to-day." 

He  spoke  raj)turously  of  the  fresli  air,  and  not  too  mildly 
of  his  pleasure  in  meeting  her.  Quite  off  her  guard,  slie 
began  to  hope  he  wa^.  a-ettinQ-  to  be  one  of  them  again,  untd 
she  heard  him  tell  Lord  Pal  met  that  he  had  come  early  oi;t 
of  Bevisham  for  the  walk  with  Dr.  Shrapnel,  and  to  call  on 
certain  rich  tradesmen  living  near  Itchincope.  He  men- 
tioned the  name  of  Dollikins. 

"Dollikins  ?"  Palmet  consulted  a  perturbed  recollection. 
Among  the  entangled  list  of  new  names  he  ha  I  gathered 
recently  from  the'  study  of  politics,  Dollikins  rang  in  his 
head.  He  shouted,  "  ^Tes,  Dollikins!  to  be  sare.  Lespel 
has  him  to  lunch  to-day  ; — calls  him  a  gentleman-tradesman  ; 
odd  fish!  and  told  a  fellow  called — where  is  it  now  ?— a 
name  like  brass  or  copper  .  .  .  Copperstone  ?  Brasspot  ? 
.  .  .  told  him  he'd  do  well  to  keep  his  Tory  cheek  out  oi" 
sight.  It's  the  names  of  those  fellows  bother  one  so!  All 
the  rest's  easy." 

"  You  are  evidently  in  a  state  of  confusion,  Loi-d  Palmet," 
said  Cecilia. 

The  tone  of  rebuke  and  admonishment  was  imperceived. 
"Not  about  the  facts,"  he  rejoined.  "  I'm  for  fair  play  all 
round;  no  trickery.  I  tell  Beauchamp  all  I  know,  just  as 
I  told  you  this  morning,  ^Miss  H.ilkett.  Wh.it  1  don't  like 
is  Lespel  turning  Tory." 

Cecilia  put  a  stop  to  his  indiscretions  by  halting  for  Mrs. 
Devereux,  and  sajdng  to  Beauchamp,  "  If  your  friend  would 


THE  BLOW  S7EUCK  BY  ME.  ROMFREY.  175 

return  to  Bevisliam  by  rail,  tliis  is  the  nearest  point  to  the 
station  J' 

Palmet,  best-natured  of  men,  though  generally  prompted 
by  some  of  his  peculiar  motives,  dismounted  from  his  horse, 
leaving  him  to  Beauchamp,  that  he  might  conduct  Mr. 
Lydiard  to  the  station,  and  perhaps  hear  a  word  of  Miss 
Denham  :  at  any  rate  be  able  to  form  a  guess  as  to  the  secret 
of  that  art  of  his,  which  had  in  the  space  of  an  hour  restored 
a  happy  and  luminous  vivacity  to  the  languid  Mrs.  Wardour 
Dc\  ei.eux. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE   QUESTION  AS  TO  THE   EXANIMATION    OF    THE  WHIGS,  AND  THE 
FINE  BLOW  STRUCK  BY  MR.  EVERARD  ROMFREY. 

Itchincope  was  famous  for  its  hospitality.  Yet  Beau- 
champ,  when  in  the  presence  of  his  hostess,  could  see  that 
he  was  both  unexpected  and  unwelcome.  Mrs.  Lespel  was 
unable  to  conceal  it ;  she  looked  meaningly  at  Cecilia,  talked 
of  the  house  being  very  full,  and  her  husband  engaged  till 
late  in  the  afternoon.  And  Captain  Baskelett  had  arrived 
on  a  sudden,  she  said.  And  the  luncheon-table  in  the  dining- 
room  could  not  possibly  hold  more. 

"  We  three  will  sit  in  the  library,  anywhere,"  said  Cecilia. 

So  they  sat  and  lunched  in  the  library,  where  Mrs.  Deve- 
reux  served  unconsciously  for  an  excellent  ally  to  Cecilia  in 
chatting  to  Beauchamp,  principally  of  the  writings  of  Mr. 
Lydiard. 

Had  the  blinds  of  the  windows  been  drawn  down  and 
candles  lighted,  Beauchamp  would  have  been  well  contented 
to  remain  with  these  two  ladies,  and  forget  the  outer  world ; 
sweeter  society  could  not  have  been  offered  him  :  but  glanc- 
ing carelessly  on  to  the  lawn,  he  exclaimed  in  some  wonder- 
ment that  the  man  he  particularly  wished  to  see  was  there. 
"  It  must  be  Dollikins,  the  brewer.  I've  had  him  pointed 
out  to  me  in  Bevisham,  and  I  never  can  light  on  him  at  his 
brewery." 

No  excuse  for  detaining  the  impetuous  candidate  struck 


176  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

Cecilia.  She  betook  herself  to  Mrs.  Lespel,  to  give  and  receive 
counsel  in  the  emergency,  while  Beauchanip  strncls,  acr  -ss 
the  lawn  to  Mr.  Dollikins,  who  had  the  sc|iiii-e  of  Itchincope 
on  the  other  side  of  him. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  a  reporfc  reached  the  ladies  of  a 
furious  contest  going  on  over  Dollikins.  ^Ar.  Algy  Borolick 
was  the  first  to  give  them  intelligence  of  it,  and  he  declared 
that  Beauchamp  had  wrested  Dollikins  from  Grancey  Lespel. 
This  was  contradicted  subsequently  by  Mr.  Stukely  Culbrett. 
"  But  there's  heavy  pulling  between  them,"  he  said. 

"  It  will  do  all  the  good  in  the  world  to  Grancey,"  said 
Mrs.  Lespel. 

She  sat  in  her  little  blue-room,  with  gentlemen  congre- 
gating at  the  open  window. 

Presently  Grancey  Lespel  rounded  a  projection  of  the 
house  where  the  drawing-room  stood  out:  "The  maddest 
folly  ever  talked!"  he  delivered  himself  in  wrath.  "The 
Whigs  dead  ?     You  may  as  well  say  I'm  dead." 

It  was  Beauchamp  answering  :  "  Politically,  you're  dead, 
if  you  call  yourself  a  Whig.  You  couldn't  be  a  live  one,  for 
the  party's  in  pieces,  blown  to  the  winds.  The  country  was 
once  a  chess-board  for  Whig  and  Tory  :  but  that  game's  at 
an  end.  There's  no  doubt  on  eai-tli  that  the  Whigs  are 
dead." 

"  But  if  there's  no  doubt  about  it,  how  is  it  I  have  a  doubt 
about  it  ?" 

"  You  know  you're  a  Tory.  Yoa  tried  to  get  that  man 
Dollikins  from  me  in  the  Tory  interest." 

"  I  mean  to  keep  him  out  of  Radical  clutches.  Now  that's 
the  truth." 

They  came  up  to  the  group  by  the  open  window,  still 
conversing  hotly,  indifferent  to  listeners. 

"You  won't  keep  him  from  me;  I  have  him,"  said  Beau- 
champ. 

"You  delude  yourself;  I  have  his  promise,  his  ple<lgcd 
word,"  said  Grancey  Lespel. 

"  The  man  himself  told  you  his  opinion  of  renegade 
Whigs." 

"  Renegade  !" 

"  Renegade  Whig  is  an  actionable  phrase,"  Mr.  Culbrett 
observed. 

He  was  unnoticed. 


THE  BLOW  STEUCK  BY  MR    ROMFEET.  177 

"  If  you  don't  like  '  renegade/  take  '  dead,'  "  said  Beau- 
champ.  "  Dead  Whig  resurgent  in  the  Tory.  You  are 
dead." 

"  It's  the  stupid  conceit  if  your  party  thinks  that." 

"  Dead,  my  dear  Mr.  LespeL  I'll  say  for  the  Whigs,  they 
would  not  be  seen  touting  for  Tories  if  they  were  not  ghosts 
of  Whigs.     You  are  dead.     There  is  no  doubt  of  it." 

"  But,"  Grancey  Lespel  repeated,  "  if  there's  no  doubt 
about  it,  how  is  it  I  have  a  doubt  about  it  ?" 

"  The  Whigs  preached  finality  in  Reform.  It  was  their 
own  funeral  sermon." 

"  Nonsensical  talk  !" 

"  I  don't  dispute  your  liberty  of  action  to  go  over  to  the 
Tories,  but  you  have  no  right  to  attempt  to  take  an  honest 
Liberal  with  you.     And  that  I've  stopped." 

"  Aha  !  Beauchamp  ;  the  man's  mine.  Come,  you'll  own 
he  swore  he  wouldn't  vote  for  a  Shrapnelite." 

"  Don't  you  remember  ? — ^that's  how  the  Tories  used  to 
fight  yoit ;  they  stuck  an  epithet  to  you,  and  hooted  to  set  the 
mob  an  example  ;  you  hit  them  off  to  the  life,"  said  Beau- 
champ,  brightening  with  the  fine  ire  of  strife,  and  affecting 
a  sadder  indignation.  "  You  traded  on  the  ignorance  of  a 
man  prejudiced  by  lying  reports  of  one  of  the  noblest  of 
human  creatirres." 

"  Shrapnel  ?  There  !  I've  had  enough."  Grancey  Lespel 
bounced  away  with  both  hands  outspread  on  the  level  of  his 
ears. 

"  Dead !"  Beauchamp  sent  the  ghastly  accusation  after 
him. 

Grancey  faced  round  and  said,  "  Bo !"  which  was  applauded 
for  a  smart  retort.  And  let  none  of  us  be  so  exalted  above 
the  wit  of  daily  life  as  to  sneer  at  it.  ]\[rs.  Lespel  remarked 
to  Mr.  Culbrett,  "  Do  you  not  see  how  much  he  is  refreshed 
by  the  interest  he  takes  in  this  election  ?  He  is  ten  years 
younger." 

Beauchamp  bent  to  her,  saying  mock-dolefully,  "  I'm  sorry 
to  tell  you  that  if  ever  he  was  a  sincere  Whig,  he  has  years 
of  remorse  before  him." 

"  Promise  me.  Captain  Beauchamp,"  she  answered,  "  pro 
mise  you  will  give  us  no  more  politics  to-day." 

"  If  none  provoke  me." 

"None  shall." 


178  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  And  as  to  Bevisham,"  said  Mr.  Culbrett,  "it's  the  iden- 
tical b  )rough  for  a  Radical  candidate,  for  every  voter  there 
demands  a  division  of  his  property,  and  he  should  be  the  last 
to  complain  of  an  adoption  of  his  principles." 

"  Clever,"  rejoined  Beauchamp  ;  "  but  I  am  under  govern- 
ment ;"  and  ho  swept  a  bow  to  Mrs.  Lespel. 

As  they  were  breaking  up  the  group,  Captain  Baskelett 
appeared. 

"  Ah  !  Nevil,"  said  he,  passed  him,  saluted  Miss  Halkett 
through  the  window,  then  cordially  squeezed  his  cousin's 
hand.  "  Having  a  holiday  out  of  Bevisham  ?  The  baron 
expects  to  meet  you  at  Mount  Laurels  to-morrow.  He  par- 
ticularly wishes  me  to  ask  you  whether  you  think  all  is  fair 
in  war  ?" 

"  I  don't,"  said  Nevil.  > 

"  'Not  ?     The  canvass  goes  on  swimmingly?" 

"  Ask  Palmet." 

"  Palmet  gives  you  two-thirds  of  the  borough.  The  poor 
old  Tory  tortoise  is  nowhere.  They've  been  writing  about 
you,  Nevil." 

"  They  have.  And  if  there's  a  man  of  honour  in  the  party 
I  shall  hold  him  responsible  for  it." 

"I  allude  to  an  article  in  the  Bevisham  Li})eral  paper;  a 
magnificent  eulogy,  upon  my  honour.  I  give  you  my  word, 
I  have  i-arely  read  an  article  so  eloquent.  And  what  is  the 
Conservative  misdemeanour  which  tlie  one  man  of  lionoiirin 
the  party  is  to  pay  for  ?" 

"  111  talk  to  you  about  it  by-and-by,"  said  Nevil. 

He  seemed  to  Cecilia  too  trusting,  too  simple,  considering 
his  cousin's  undisguised  tone  of  banter.  Yet  she  could  not 
put  him  on  his  guard.  She  would  have  had  Mr.  Culbrett 
do  so.  She  walked  on  the  terrace  with  him  near  upon  sun- 
set, and  said,  "  The  position  Captain  Beauchamp  is  in  here 
is  most  unfair  to  him." 

"  There's  nothing  unfair  in  the  lion's  den,"  said  Stukely 
Culbrett ;  adding,  "  Now,  observe,  Miss  Halkett ;  he  talks 
for  effect.  He  discovers  that  Lespel  is  a  Torified  Whig  ; 
but  that  does  not  make  him  a  bit  more  alert.  It's  to  say 
smart  things.  He  speaks,  but  won't  act,  as  if  he  were  among 
enemies.  He's  getting  too  fond  of  his  bow-wow.  Here  he 
is,  and  he  knows  the  den,  and  he  chooses  to  act  the  inno- 
cent.    You  see  how  ridiculous  ?     That  trick  of  the  ingenu, 


THE  BLOW  STEUCK  BY  MR.  ROMFREY.  179 

or  peculiarly  heavenly  messenger,  who  pretends  that  he 
ought  never  to  have  any  harm  clone  to  him,  though  he 
carries  the  lighted  match,  is  the  way  of  young  Radicals. 
Otherwise  Beauchamp  would  be  a  dear  boy.  We  shall  see 
how  he  takes  his  thrashing." 

"  You  feel  sure  he  will  be  beaten  ?" 

"  He  has  too  strong  a  dose  of  fool's  honesty  to  succeed — 
stands  for  the  game  laws  with  Radicals,  iPor  example.  He's 
loaded  with  scruples  and  crotchets,  and  thinks  more  of  them 
than  of  his  winds  and  his  tides.  No  public  man  is  to  be 
made  out  of  that.  His  idea  of  the  Whigs  being  dead  shows 
a  head  that  can't  read  the  country.  I^  means  himself  for 
mankind,  and  is  preparing  to  be,tiie  benefactor  of  a  country 
parish."  *' 

"  But  as  a  naval  officer  ?" 

"  Excellent." 

Cecilia  was  convinced  that  Mr.  Culbrett  underestimated 
Beauchamp.  N^evertheless  the  confidence  expressed  in  Beau* 
champ's  defeat  reassured  and  pleased  her.  At  midnight  she 
was  dancing  with  him  in  the  midst  of  great  matronly 
country  vessels  that  raised  a  wind  when  they  launched  on 
the  waltz,  and  exacted  an  anxious  pilotage  on  the  part  of 
gentlemen  careful  of  their  partners ;  and  why  I  cannot  say, 
but  contrasts  produce  quaint  ideas  in  excited  spirits,  and  a 
dancmg  politician  app<3ared  to  her  so  absurd  that  at  one 
moment  she  had  to  bite  her  lips  not  to  laugh.  It  will  hardly 
be  credited  that  the  waltz  with  Nevil  was  delightful  to 
Cecilia  all  the  while,  and  dancing  with  others  a  penance. 
He  danced  with  none  other.  He  led  her  to  a  three  o'clock 
morning  supper:  one  of  those  triumphant  subversions  of  t];:e 
laws  and  customs  of  earth  which  have  the  charm  of  a  foi  m 
of  present  deification  for  all  young  people  ;  and  she,  while 
noting  how  the  poor  man's  advocate  dealt  with  costly  pasties 
and  sparkling  wines,  was  overjoyed  at  his  heai-ty  comrade's 
manner  with  the  gentlemen,  and  a  leadership  in  fun  that  he 
seemed  to  have  established.  Cecil  Baskelett  asknowledged 
it,  and  complimented  him  on  it.  "I  give  you  my  word, 
Nevil,  I  never  heard  you  in  finer  trim.  Here's  to  our  drive 
into  Bevisham  to-morrow !  Do  you  drink  ic  ?  I  beg ;  I 
entreat." 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  said  Nevil. 

**  Will  you  take  a  whip  down  there  ?** 

n2 


180  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

*'  If  you're  all  insured." 

"  On  ray  honour,  old  Nevil,  driving  a  four-in-liand  is 
easier  than  gover-ning  the  country." 

"  I'll  accept  your  authority  for  what  you  know  best,"  said 
Kevil. 

The  toast  of  the  Drive  into  Bevisham  was  drunk. 

Cecilia  left  the  supper-table,  mortified,  and  feeling  dis- 
graced by  her  participation  in  a  secret  that  was  being 
wantonly  abused  to  humiliate  ISTevil,  as  she  was  made  to 
think  by  her  sensitiveness.  All  the  gentlemen  were  against 
him,  excepting  perhaps  that  chattering  pie  Lord  Palmet,  who 
did  him  more  mischief  than  his  enemies.  She  could  not 
sleep.  She  walked  out  on  the  terrace  with  Mrs.  Wardour- 
Devereux,  in  a  dream,  hearing  that  lady  breathe  remarks 
hardly  less  than  sentimental,  and  an  unwearied  succession 
of  sliouts  from  the  smoking-room. 

"They  are  not  going  to  bed  to-night,"  said  Mrs. 
Devereux. 

"  They  are  mystifying  Captain  Beauchamp,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  My  husband  tells  me  they  are  going  to  drive  him  into 
the  town  to-morrow." 

Cecilia  flushed  :  she  could  scarcely  get  her  breath. 

"  Is  that  thcii-  plot?"  she  murmured. 

Sleep  was  rejected  by  her,  bed  itself.  The  drive  into 
Bevisham  had  been  fixed  for  nine  A.M.  She  wrote  two  lines 
on  note-paper  in  her  room :  but  found  them  over-fervid  and 
mysterious.  Besides,  how  were  they  to  be  conveyed  to 
Nevil's  chamber ! 

She  walked  in  the  passage  for  half  an  hour,  thinking  it 
possible  she  might  meet  him ;  not  the  most  lady-like  of 
proceedings,  but  her  head  was  bewildered.  An  arm-chair 
in  her  room  invited  her  to  rest  and  think — the  mask  of  a 
natural  desire  for  sleep.  At  eight  in  the  morning  she  was 
awakened  by  her  maid,  and  at  a  touch  exclaimed,  "  Have 
they  gone  ?"  and  her  heart  still  throbbed  after  hearing  that 
most  of  the  gentlemen  were  in  and  about  the  stables. 
Cecilia  was  down-stairs  at  a  quarter  to  nine.  The  break- 
fast-room was  empty  of  all  but  Lord  Palmet  and  Mr. 
Wardour-Devereux  ;  one  selecting  a  cigar  to  light  out  of 
doors,  the  other  debating  between  two  pipes.  She  beckoned 
to  Palmet,  and  commissioned  him  to  inform  Beauchamp  that 
she  wished  him  to  drive  her  down  to  Bevisham  in  hpr  pony 


THE  BLOW  STRUCK  BY  MR.   ROMFREY.  18? 

carriage.  Paliuct  brought  back  word  from  Beauchamp  that 
he  had  an  appointment  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  town.  "  1  want 
to  see  him,"  she  said  ;  so  Palmet  ran  out  with  the  order. 
Cecilia  met  Beauchamp  in  the  entrance-hall. 

"  You  must  not  go/'  she  said  bluntly. 

"  I  can't  break  an  appointment,"  said  he — "  for  the  sake 
of  my  own  pleasure,"  was  imj^lied. 

"  Will  you  not  listen  to  me,  Nevil,  when  I  say  you  cannot 
go?" 

A  coachman's  trumpet  blew. 

"  I  shall  be  late.  That's  Colonel  Millington's  team.  He 
starts  first,  then  Wardour-Devereux,  then  Cecil,  and  I  mount 
beside  him  ;  Palmet 's  at  onr  heels." 

"  But  can't  you  even  imagine  a  purpose  for  their  driving 
into  Bevisham  so  pompously  P" 

"Well,  men  with  drags  haven't  commonly  much  purpose," 
he  said. 

"  But  on  this  occasion  !  At  an  Election  time  !  Surely, 
Nevil,  you  can  guess  at  a  reason." 

A  second  trumpet  blew  very  martially.  Footmen  came  in 
search  of  Captain  Beauchamp.  The  alternative  of  breaking 
her  pledged  word  to  her  father,  or  of  letting  ]N"evil  be 
Inu'lesqued  in  the  sight  of  the  town,  could  no  longer  be 
dallied  with. 

Cecilia  said,  "  Well,  Nevil,  then  you  shall  hear  it." 

Hereupon  Captain  Baskelett's  groom  informed  Captain 
Beauchamp  that  he  was  off. 

"  Yes,"  Nevil  said  to  Cecilia,  "  tell  me  on  board  the 
yacht." 

"  ]!^evil,  you  will  be  driving  into  the  town  with  the  second 
Tory  candidate  of  the  borongh." 

"  Which  ?  who?"  Nevil  asked. 

"Your  cousin  Cecil." 

"  Tell  Captain  Baskelett  that  I  don't  drive  down  till  an 
hour  later,"  Nevil  said  to  the  groom.  "  Cecilia,  you're  tny 
friend ;  I  wish  yon  were  more.  I  wish  we  didn't  differ.  1 
shall  hope  to  change  you — make  you  come  half-way  out  of 
that  citadel  of  yours.  This  is  my  uncle  Everard  !  1  might 
have  made  sure  there'd  be  a  blow  from  him  !  And  Cecil ! 
of  all  men  for  a  politician!  Cecilia,  think  of  it!  Cecil 
Baskelett !  I  beg  Seymour  xlustin's  pardon  for  having 
suspected  him  .   .   .  ." 


182  BE  AUG  H  amp's  CAREEE. 

Now  sourided  Caplain  Baskelett's  trumpet. 

Angry  thoi.iji'li  lie  was,  Beauchamp  laughed.  "Isn't  it 
exactly  like  tlie  baron  to  spring  a  mine  of  this  kind  ?" 

There  was  decidedly  humour  in  the  plot,  and  it  was  a 
lusty  quarters taff  blow  into  the  bargain.  Beauchamp's  head 
rang  with  it.  He  could  not  conceal  the  stunning  effect  it 
had  on  him.  Gratitude  and  tenderness  toward  Cecilia  for 
saving  him,  at  the  cost  of  a  partial  breach  of  faith  that  he 
quite  understood,  from  the  scandal  of  the  public  entry  into 
Bevisham  on  the  Tory  coach-box,  alternated  with  his  inter- 
jections regarding  his  uncle  Everard. 

At  eleven,  Cecilia  sat  in  her  pony-carriage,  giving  final 
directions  to  Mrs.  Devei-eux  where  Lo  look  out  for  the 
Esperanza  and  the  schooner's  boat.  "  Then  I  drive  down 
alone,"  Mrs.  Devereux  said. 

The  gentlemen  were  all  off,  and  every  available  maid  with 
them  on  the  coach-boxes,  a  brilliant  sight  that  had  been 
missed  by  Nevil  and  Cecilia. 

"Why,  here's  Lydiard  ! "  said  Nevil,  supposing  that 
Lydiard  must  be  a]iproaching  him  with  tidings  of  the  second 
Tory  candidate.  But  Lydiard  knew  nothing  of  it.  He  was 
the  bearer  of  a  letter  on  foreign  paper — marked  urgent,  in 
Rosamund's  hand — and  similarly  worded  in  the  well-known 
hand  Avliich  had  inscribed  the  original  address  of  the  letter 
to  Steynham. 

Beauchamp  opened  it  and  read — 

*'  Chateau  Tourdestelle 
''  (Eure). 
"  Come.     I  give  you  three  days — no  more. 

"Renee." 

The  brevity  was  horrible.  Did  it  spring  from  childish 
imperiousness  or  tragic  peril  ? 

Beauchamp  could  imagine  it  to  be  this  or  that.  In 
moments  of  excited  speculation  we  do  not  dwell  on  the  pos- 
sibility that  there  may  be  a  mixture  of  motives. 

"  I  fear  I  must  cross  over  to  France  this  evening,"  he  said 
to  Cecilia. 

She  replied,  "  It  is  likely  to  be  stormy  to-night.  The 
steamboat  may  not  run." 

"  If  there's  a  doubt  of  it,  I  shall  find  a  French  lugger. 
You  are  tired,  from  not  sleeping  last  night." 


THE  DRIVE  INTO  BEflSFAM  183 

"  No,"  she  answered,  and  nodded  to  Mrs.  Devereux,  beside 
whom  Mr.  L.jdiard  stood :  "  You  will  not  drive  down  alone, 
you  see." 

For  a  young  lady  threatened  with  a  tempest  in  her  heart,  as 
disturbing  to  her  as  the  one  gathering  in  the  West  for  ships 
at  sea,  Miss  Halkett  bore  heiself  well. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  DRIVE  INTO  BEVISHAM. 


Beauchamp  was  requested  by  Cecilia  to  hold  the  reins. 
His  fair  companion  in  the  pony-carriage  preferred  to  lean 
back  musing,  and  he  had  leisure  to  think  over  the  blow  dealt 
him  by  his  uncle  Everard  with  so  sure  an  aim  so  ringingly 
on  the  head.  And  in  the  first  place  he  made  no  attempt  to 
disdain  it  because  it  was  nothing  but  artful  and  heavy- 
handed,  after  the  medieval  pattern.  Of  old  he  himself  had 
delighted  in  artfulness  as  well  as  boldness  and  the  unmis- 
takable hit.  Highly  to  prize  generalship  was  in  his  blood, 
though  latterly  the  very  forces  propelling  him  to  his  political 
warfare  had  forbidden  the  use  of  it  to  him.  He  saw  the 
patient  veteran  laying  his  gun  for  a  long  shot — to  give  as 
good  as  he  had  received  ;  and  in  realizing  E  verard  Romfrey's 
perfectly  placid  bearing  under  provocation,  such  as  he  cer- 
tainly would  have  maintained  while  preparing  his  reply  to 
it,  the  raw  fighting  humour  of  the  plot  touched  the  sense  of 
justice  in  Beauchamp  enough  to  make  him  own  that  he  had 
been  the  first  to  oifend.  He  could  reflect  also  on  the  likeli- 
hood that  other  offended  men  of  his  uncle's  age  and  position 
would  have  sulked  or  stormed,  threatening  th(i  Parthian  shot 
of  the  vindictive  testator.  If  there  was  godlessness  in  turn- 
ing to  politics  for  a  weapon  to  strike  a  domestic  blow,  man- 
fulness  in  some  degree  signalized  it.  Beauchamp  could 
fancy  his  uncle  crying  out,  Who  set  the  example  ?  and  he 
u  as  not  at  that  instant  inclined  to  dwell  on  the  occult  virtues 
of  the  example  he  had  set.  To  be  honest,  this  elevation  of 
a  political  puppet  like  Cecil  Baskelett,  and  the  starting  him, 
out  of   the    same  family  which  Turbot,  the  journalist,  had 


184  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

maguiiied,  into  Bevisham  witli  sucli  pomp  and  floarish  in 
opposition  to  the  serious  young  champion  of  popular  rights 
and  the  P<«ritan  style,  was  ludicrously  effective.  Con- 
scienceless of  course.  But  that  was  the  way  of  the  Old 
School. 

Beauchamp  broke  the  silence  by  thanking  Cecilia  once 
more  for  saving  him  from  the  absurd  exhibition  of  the 
Radical  candidate  on  the  Tory  coach -box,  and  laughing  at 
the  grimmish  slyness  of  his  uncle  p]verard's  conspiracy  :  a 
something  in  it  that  was  half-smile  half-sneer  ;  not  exactly 
malignant,  and  by  no  means  innocent ;  something  made  up 
of  the  simplicity  of  a  lighted  match,  and  its  proximity  to 
powder,  yet  neither  deadly,  in  spite  of  a  wicked  twinkle,  nor 
at  all  pretending  to  be  harmless  :  in  shoi-t,  a  specimen  of  old 
English  practical  humour. 

He  labourrd  to  express  these  or  corresponding  views  of  it, 
with  tolerably  natural  laughter,  and  Cecilia  rallied  her 
spirits  at  his  ])leasant  manner  of  taking  his  blow. 

"  I  shall  compliment  the  baron  when  T  meet  him  to-night," 
he  said.     "  What  can  we  compare  him  to  ?" 

She  suggested  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  the  Lord 
Haroun,  who  likewise  had  a  turn  for  buffooneries  to  serve  a 
purpose,  and  could  direct  them  loftily  and  sovereignly. 

"  No  :  Everard  Romfrey's  a  Xortherner  from  the  feet  up," 
said  Beauchamj). 

Cecilia  compliantly  offered  him  a  sketch  of  the  Scandi- 
navian Troll :  much  nearer  the  mark,  he  thought,  and 
exclaimed :  "  Baron  Troll !  I'm  afraid,  Cecilia,  you  have 
robbed  him  of  the  best  part  of  his  fun.  And  you  will  owe 
it  entirely  to  him  if  you  should  be  represented  in  Parliament 
by  my  cousin  Baskelett." 

"  Promise  me,  Nevil,  that  yon  will,  when  you  meet  Cap- 
tain Baskelett,  not  forget  I  did  you  some  service,  and  that  1 
wish,  I  shall  be  so  glad  if  you  do  not  resent  certain  things. 
....  Yery  objectionable,  we  all  think." 

He  released  her  from  the  embarrassing  petition  :  "  Oh  ! 
now  I  know  my  man,  yon  may  be  sure  I  won't  waste  a  word 
on  him.  The  fact  is,  he  would  not  understand  a  word,  and 
would  require  more — and  that  I  don't  do.  \Yhen  I  fancied 
Mr.  Austin  was  the  responsible  person,  I  meant  to  speak  to 
him." 

Cecilia  smiled  o^ratefullv. 


THE  DRIVE  INTO  BEVISHAM.  185 

The  sweetness  of  a  love-speech  would  not  have  been 
sweeter  to  her  than  this  proof  of  civilized  chivalry  in  Xevil. 

They  came  to  the  fir-heights  overlooking'  I3evisham.  Here 
the  breezy  beginning  of  a  Soath-western  autumnal  gale 
tossed  the  ponies'  manes  and  made  threads  of  Cecilia's 
shorter  locks  of  beautiful  auburn  by  the  temples  and  the 
neck,  blustering  the  curls  that  streamed  in  a  thick  involu- 
tion from  the  silken  band  gathering  them  off  her  uncovered 
clear- swept  ears. 

Beauchamp  took  an  impression  of  her  side  face.  It 
seemed  to  offer  him  everything  the  worLl  could  offer  of 
cultivated  purity,  intelligent  beauty  and  attractiveness  ;  and 
"  Wilt  thou  ?"  said  the  winged  minute.  Peace,  a  good 
repute  in  the  mouths  of  men,  home,  and  a  trustv/oithy 
woman  for  mate,  an  ideal  English  lady,  the  rarest  growth 
of  our  country,  and  friends  and  fair  esteem,  were  offered. 
Last  night  he  had  waltzed  with  her,  and  the  manner  of  tli's 
tall  graceful  girl  in\  submitting  to-the  union  of  thgjnggrnire 
and  reserving  her  incUv ichiai^TSTi^t^n^  had  exquisitely 
flattered  his  taste,  giving  hrffPaiTauspicious  image  of  her  in 
partnership,  through  tJie  uses  of  life. 

He  looked  ahead  at  the  low  dead-blue  cloud  swinging 
from  across  channel.  What  could  be  the  riddle  of  Renee's 
letter  !     It  chained  him  completely. 

"  At  all  events,  I  shall  not  be  away  longer  than  three 
days,"  he  said;  paused,  eyed  Cecilia's  pro. lie,  and  added, 
"Do  we  differ  so  much  ?" 

"It  may  not  be  so  much  as  we  think,"  said  she. 

"But  if  we  do!" 

"  Then,  N^evil,  there  is  a  difference  between  us.'* 

"But  if  we  keep  our  lips  closed  ?" 

"We  should  have  to  shut  our  eyes  as  well !" 

A  lovely  melting  image  of  her  stole  o\er  hira  ;  all  the 
warmer  fssr  her  unwittingness  in  producing  it  :  and  it 
awakened  a  tenderness  toward  the  simple  speaker. 

Cecilia's  delicate  breeding  saved  her  from  running  on 
figuratively.  She  continued:  "  Intellect  a  al  differences  do 
not  cause  wounds,  except  when  .very  unintellectual  senti- 
ments are  behind  themj^ — my  conceit,  or  your  impatience, 
Nevil  ?  '  JN^oi  veggiam  come  quei,  che  ha  mala  luce.'  .... 
I  can  confess  my  sio-ht  to  be  imperfect :  but  will  vou  ever  do 
so  ?" 


186 

Ber  musical  voice  in  Italian  charmed  his  hearing. 

"  What  poet  was  that  yon  quoted  ?" 

"  The  wisest :  Dante." 

"  Dr.  Shrapnel's  favourite  !     I  must  trj  to  read  him." 

"He  reads  Dante?"  Cecilia  threw  a  stress  on  the 
august  name;  and  it  was  manifest  that  she  cared  not  for  the 
answer. 

Contemptuous  exclusiveuess  could  not  go  farther. 

"  He  is  a  man  of  cultivation,"  Beauchamp  said  cursorily, 
trying  to  avoid  dissension,  but  in  vain.  "  I  wish  I  were 
half  as  well  instructed,  and  the  world  half  as  charitable  as 
he  ! — You  ask  me  if  I  shall  admit  my  sight  to  be  imperfect. 
Yes  ;  when  you  prove  to  me  that  priests  and  landlords  are 
willing  to  do  their  duty  by  the  people  in  preference  to  their 
churches  and  their  property  :  but  will  you  ever  shake  off 
prejudice  ?" 

Here  was  opposition  sounding  again.  Cecilia  mentally 
reproached  Dr.  Shrapnel  for  it. 

"Indeed,  Nevil,  really,  must  not — may  I  not  ask  you  this? 
— must  not  everyone  feel  the  evil  spell  of  some  associations  ? 
And  Dante  and  Dr.  Shrapnel !" 

"  You  don't  know  him,  Cecilia." 

"  I  saw  him  yesterday." 

"  You  thought  him  too  tall  ?" 

"  I  thought  of  his  charactei\" 

"  How  angry  I  should  be  with  you  if  you  were  not  so 
beautiful  !" 

"  I  am  immensely  indebted  to  my  unconscious  advocate." 

"You  are  clad  in  steel;  you  flash  back;  you  won't  answer 
me  out  of  the  heart.  I'm  convinced  it  is  pure  wilfulness  that 
makes  you  ojDpose  me." 

"  I  fancy  you  must  be  convinced  berause  you  cannot 
imagine  women  to  have  any  share  of  public  spirit,  N'evil." 

A  grain  of  truth  in  that  remark  set  Nevil  reflecting. 

"  I  want  them  to  have  it,"  he  remarked,  and  glanced  at  a 
Tory  placard,  probably  the  puppet's  fresh-printed  address 
to  the  electors,  on  one  of  the  wayside  fir-trees.  "  Bevisham 
looks  well  from  here.  We  might  make  a  North-western 
Venice  of  it,  if  we  liked." 

"  Papa  told  you  it  would  be  money  sunk  in  mud." 

"  Did  I  mention  it  to  him  ? — Thoroughly  Conservative  ! — 
So  he  would  leave  the  mud  as  it  is.     They  insist  on  our  not 


THE  DRIVE  INTO  BEYISHAM.  187 

venturing  anything — tliose  Tories  !  exactly  as  thongli  we 
had  gained  the  best  of  human  conditions,  instead  of  counting 
crops  of  rogues,  malefactors,  egoists,  noxious  and  lumber- 
some  creatures  that  deaden  the  country.  Your  town  down 
there  is  one  of  the  ugliest  and  dirtiest  in  the  kingdom :  it 
might  be  the  fairest." 

"■  I  have  often  thought  that  of  Bevisham,  ^N^evil." 

He  drew  a  visionary  sketch  of  quays,  embankments, 
bridged  islands,  public  buildings,  magical  emanations  of 
patriotic  architecture,  with  a  practical  air,  an  absence  of 
that  enthusiasm  which  struck  her  with  suspicion  when  it 
was  not  apj^lied  to  landscape  or  the  Arts  ;  and  she  accepted 
it,  and  warmed,  and  even  allowed  herself  to  appear  hesi- 
tating when  he  returned  to  the  similarity  of  the  state  of 
mud-begirt  Bevisham  and  our  great  sluggish  England. 

Was  he  not  perhaps  to  be  pitied  in  his  bondage  to  the 
Frenchwoman,  who  could  have  no  ideas  in  common  with 
him  ? 

The  rare  circumstance  that  she  and  Xevil  Beauchamp 
had  found  a  subject  of  agreement,  partially  overcame  the 
sentiment  Cecilia  entertained  for  the  foreign  lady ;  and 
having  now  one  idea  in  common  with  him,  she  conceived 
the  possibility  that  there  might  be  more.  There  must  be 
many,  for  he  loved  England,  and  she  no  less.  She  clung, 
however,  'to  the  topic  of  Bevisham,  preferring  to  dream  of 
the  many  more,  rather  than  run  risks.  Undoubtedly  the 
town  was  of  an  ignoble  aspect ;  and  it  was  declining  in 
prosperity  ;  and  it  was  consequently  over-populated.  And 
undoubtedly  (so  she  was  induced  to  coincide  for  the  mo- 
ment) a  Government,  acting  to  any  extent  like  a  super- 
vising head,  should  aid  and  direct  the  energies  of  towns  and 
ports  an^l  trades,  and  not  leave  everything  everywhere  to 
chance :  schools  for  the  people,  pul  flic  morality,  should  be 
the  charge  of  Government.  Cecilia  had  surrendered  the 
lead  to  him,  and  was  forced  to  subscribe  to  an  equivalent 
of  '  undoubtedly  '  the  Tories  just  as  little  as  the  Liberals 
had  done  these  good  offices.  Party  against  party,  neither, 
of  them  had  a  forethoughtful  head  for  the  land  at  large. 
They  waited  for  the  Press  to  spur  a  great  imperial  country 
to  be  but  defensively  armed,  and  they  accepted  the  so-called 
volunteers,  with  a  nominal  one-month's  drill  per  annum,  as 
a  guarantee  of  defence  ! 


188  BEATJCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Beancliamp  startled  her,  actually  kindled  her  mind  to  an 
activity  of  wonder  and  regret,  with  the  statement  of  how 
much  Government,  acting  with  some  degree  of  farsighted- 
ness, might  have  won  to  pay  the  public  debt  and  remit 
taxation,  by  originally  retaining  the  lines  of  railway,  and 
fastening  on  the  valu  *;ble  land  adjoining  stations.  Hundreds 
of  millions  of  pounds  ! 

She  dropped  a  sigh  at  the  prodigious  amount,  but 
inquired,  "  VVlio  has  calculated  it  ?" 

For  though  perfectly  aware  that  this  kind  of  convei-sa- 
rion  was  a  special  compliment  paid  to  her  by  her  friend 
N"evil,  and  dimly  perceiving  that  it  implied  something 
beyond  a  compliment — in  fact,  that  it  was  his  manner  of 
probing  her  for  sympathy,  as  other  men  would  have  con- 
ducted the  process  preliminary  to  deadly  flattery  or  to 
wooing,  her  wits  fenced  her  heart  about ;  the  exercise  of 
shrewdness  was  an  instinct  of  self-preservation.  She  had 
nothing  but  her  poor  wits,  daily  growing  fainter,  to  resist 
him  with.  And  he  seemed  to  know  it,  and  therefore  assailed 
them,  never  trying  at  the  heart. 

That  vast  army  of  figures  might  be  but  a  phantom  army 
conjured  out  of  the  Radical  mists,  might  it  not  ?  she  hint'.^d. 
And  besides,  we  cannot  surely  require  a  Govei-nment  to 
speculate  in  the  future,  can  we  ? 

Possibly  not,  as  Governments  go,  Beauchamp  said. 

But  what  think  you  of  a  Government  of  landowners 
decreeing  the  enclosure  of  millions  of  acres  of  common  lantl 
amongst  themselves  ;  taking  the  property  of  the  people  to 
add  to  their  own  !  Say,  is  not  that  plunder  ?  Public  pro- 
perty, observe  ;  decreed  to  them  by  their  own  law-making, 
under  the  pretence  that  it  was  being  reclaimed  for  cultiva- 
tion, when  in  reality  it  has  been  but  an  addition  to  their 
pleasure-grounds:  a  flat  robbery  of  pasture  from  the  poor 
man's  cow  and  goose,  and  his  right  of  cutting  furze  for 
firing.  Consider  that !  Beauchamp's  eyes  flashed  demo- 
cratic in  reciting  this  injury  to  the  objects  of  his  Avarm 
solicitude — the  man,  the  cow,  and  the  goose.  But  so  must 
he  have  looked  when  fronting  England's  enemies,  and  his 
aspect  of  fervour  subdued  Cecilia.  She  confessed  her 
inability  to  form  an  estimate  of  such  conduct. 

"  Are  they  doing  it  still  P"  she  asked. 

"  We  owe  it  to  l)r.  Shrapnel  foremost  that  there  is  now  a 


THE  DRIVE  INTO  BEVISHAM.  189 

watch  over  them  to  stop  them.  But  for  him,  Grancey 
Lespel  would  have  enclosed  half  of  JSTortheden  Heath.  As 
it  is,  he  has  filched  bits  here  and  there,  and  he  will  have  to 
put  back  his  palings." 

However,  now  let  Cecilia  understand  that  we  English, 
calling  ourselves  free,  are  under  morally  lawless  rule. 
Government  is  what  we  require,  and  our  means  of  getting  it 
must  be  through  universal  suffrage.  At  present  we  have 
no  Government ;  only  shifting  Party  Ministries,  which  are 
the  tools  of  divers  interests,  wealthy  factions,  to  the  sacrifice 
of  the  Commonwealth. 

She  listened,  like  Rosamund  Calling  overborne  by  Dr. 
Shrapnel,  inwardly  praying  that  she  might  discover  a  man 
to  reply  to  him. 

"  A  Despotism,  Ncvil  ?" 

He  hoped  not,  declined  the  despot,  was  English  enough 
to  stand  against  the  best  of  men  in  that  character ;  but  he 
cast  it  on  Tory,  Whig,  and  Liberal,  otherwise  the  Con- 
stitutionalists, if  we  were  to  come  upon  the  despot. 

"  They  see  we  are  close  on  universal  suffrage ;  they've 
been  bidding  each  in  turn  for  'the  people,'  and  that  has 
brought  them  to  it,  and  now  they're  alarmed  and  accuse  one 
another  of  treason  to  the  Constitution,  and  they  don't  accept 
the  situation :  and  there's  a  fear  that,  to  carry  on  their 
present  system,  they  will  be  thwarting  the  people  or  cor- 
rupting them  :  and  in  that  case  we  shall  have  our  despot  in 
some  shape  or  other,  and  we  shall  suffer." 

"  JSTevil,"  said  Cecilia,  "  I  am  out  of  my  depth." 

"  I'll  support  you  ;  I  can  swim  for  two,"  said  he. 

"  You  are  very  self-confident,  but  I  find  I  am  not  fit  for 
battle  ;  at  least  not  in  the  front  ranks." 

"  Nerve  me,  then  :  will  you  ?  Try  to  comprehend  once 
for  all  what  the  battle  is." 

"  I  am  afraid  1  am  too  indifferent ;  I  am  too  luxurious. 
That  reminds  me :  you  want  to  meet  your  uncle  Bverard  : 
and  if  you  will  sleep  at  Mount  Laurels  to-night,  the 
Esperanza  shall  take  you  to  France  to-morrow  morning,  and 
can  wait  to  bring  you  back." 

As  she  spoke  she  perceived  a  flush  mounting  over  I^evil's 
face.     Soon  it  was  communicated  to  hers. 

The  strange  secret  of  the  blood  electrified  them  both,  and 
revealed  the  burning  undercurrent  running  between  them 


190  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEe/ 

from  tlie  hearts  of  each.  The  light  that  showed  how  near 
they  were  to  one  another  was  kindled  at  the  barriei-  dividing 
them.  It  remained  as  good  as  a  secret,  unchallenged  until 
the  J  had  separated,  and  after  midnight  Cecilia  looked  through 
her  chamber  windows  at  the  driving  moon  of  a  hurricane 
scud,  and  read  clearly  his  honourable  reluctance  to  be 
wafted  over  to  his  French  love  by  her  assistance ;  and 
Beauchamp  on  board  the  tossing  steamboat  perceived  in  her 
sympathetic  reddening  that  she  had  divined  him. 

This  auroral  light  eclipsed  the  other  events  of  the  day. 
He  drove  into  a  town  royally  decorated,  and  still  humming 
with  the  ravishment  of  the  Tory  entrance.  He  sailed  in 
the  schooner  to  Mount  Laurels,  in  the  society  of  Captain 
Baskelett  and  his  friends,  who,  finding  him  tamer  than  they 
expected,  bantered  him  in  the  cheerfuUest  fashion.  He 
waited  for  his  uncle  Everard  several  hours  at  Mount  Laurels, 
perused  the  junior  Tory's  address  to  the  Electors,  through- 
out which  there  was  not  an  idea — safest  of  addresses  to 
canvass  upon !  perused  likewise,  at  Captain  Baskelett's 
request,  a  broadsheet  of  an  article  introducing  the  new  can- 
didate to  Bevisham  with  the  battle-axe  Romfreys  to  back 
him,  in  high  burlesque  of  Timothy  Turbot  upon  Beauchamp  : 
and  Cecil  hoped  his  cousin  would  not  object  to  his  borrowing 
a  Romfrey  or  two  for  so  pressing  an  occasion.  All  very 
fanny,  and  no  doubt  the  presence  of  Mr.  Everard  Romfrey 
would  have  heightened  the  fun  from  the  fountain-head  ;  but 
he  happened  to  be  delayed,  and  Beauchamp  had  to  leave 
directions  behind  him  in  the  town,  besides  the  discussion  of 
a  whole  plan  of  conduct  with  Dr.  Shrapnel,  so  he  was  under 
the  necessity  of  departing  without  seeing  his  uncle,  really 
to  his  regret.     He  left  word  to  that  eftect. 

Taking  leave  of  Cecilia,  he  talked  of  his  return  '  home ' 
within  three  or  four  de^ys  as  a  certainty. 

She  said  :  "  Canvassing  should  not  be  neglected  now." 

Her  hostility  was  confused  by  what  she  had  done  to  save 
him  from  annoyance,  while  his  behaviour  to  his  cousin  Cecil 
increased  her  respect  for  him.  She  detected  a  pathetic 
meaning  in  his  mention  of  the  word  home  :  she  mused  on 
his  having  called  her  beautiful :  whither  was  she  hurrj^ng  ? 
Forgetful  of  her  horror  of  his  revolutionary  ideas,  forgetful 
of  the  elevation  of  her  own,  she  thrilled  secretly  on  hearing 
it  stated  by  the  jubilant  young  Tories  at  Mount  Laurels,  as 


TOUEDESTELLE.  191 

a  characteristic  of  Beaucliamp,  that  he  was  clever  in  parry- 
ing" political  thrusts,  and  slipping  from  the  theme ;  he  who 
Avith  her  gave  out  ungnardedly  the  thoughts  deepest  in  him. 
And  the  thoughts  !■ — were  thev  not  of  generous  origin  ? 
AVhere  so  true  a  helpmate  for  him  as  the  one  to  whom  his 
mind  appealed  ?  It  could  not  be  so  with  the  FrenchAvoman. 
Cecilia  divined  a  generous  nature  by  generosity,  and  set 
herself  to  believe  that  in  honour  he  had  not  yet  dared  to 
speak  to  her  from  the  heart,  not  being  at  heart  quite  free. 
She  was  at  the  same  time  in  her  remains  of  pride  cool  enough 
to  examine  and  rebuke  the  weakness  she  succumbed  to  in 
now  clinging  to  him  by  that  which  yesterday  she  hardly 
less  than  loathed,  still  deeply  disliked. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

TOURDESTELLE. 


On  the  part  of  Beauchamp,  his  conversation  with  Cecilia 
during  the  drive  into  Eevisham  opened  out  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  a  prospect  of  home ;  he  had  felt  the  word  in 
speaking  it,  and  it  signified  an  end  to  the  distractions  pro- 
duced by  the  sex,  allegiance  to  one  beloved  respected  woman, 
and  also  a  basis  of  operations  against  the  world.  For  she 
was  evidently  conquei-able,  and  once  matched  with  him 
would  be  the  very  woman  to  nerve  and  sustain  him.  Did 
she  not  listen  to  him  ?  He  liked  her  resistance.  That 
element  of  the  barb^aimis  which  went  largely  to  form  his 
emotional  naturae  was  overjoyed  in  wresting  such  a  woman 
from  the  enemy,  and  subdaing  her  personally.  She  was  a 
prize.  She  was  a  splendid  prize,  cut  out  from  under  the 
guns  of  the  fort.  He  rendered  all  that  was  due  to  his 
eminently  good  cause  for  its  part  in  so  signal  a  success,  but 
individual  satisfaction  is  not  diminished  by  the  thought  that 
the  individual's  discernment  selected  the  cause  thus  benefi- 
cent to  him. 

Beauchamp's  meditations  were  diverted  by  the  sight  of 
the  coast  of  France  dashed  in  rain-lines  across  a  weed- 
strewn  sea.     The  'three  days'  granted  him  by  Renee  were 


192  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

over,  and  it  scarcely  troubled  him  that  he  should  be  behind 
the  time ;  he  detested  mystery,  holding  it  to  be  a  sign  of 
joretentious  feebleness,  often  of  imposture,  it  might  be 
frivolity.  Punctilious  obedience  to  the  mysterious  brevity 
of  the  summons,  and  not  to  chafe  at  it,  appeared  to  him  as 
much  as  could  be  expected  oE  a  struggling  man.  This  was 
the  state  of  the  case  with  him,  until  he  stood  on  French 
earth,  breathed  French  air,  and  chanced  to  hear  the  tongue 
of  France  twittered  by  a  lady  on  the  quay.  The  charm  was 
instantaneous.  He  reminded  himself  that  Renee,  unlike  her 
countrywomen,  had  no  gift  for  writing  letters.  They  had 
never  corresponded  since  the  hour  of  her  maiTiage.  They 
had  met  in  Sicily,  at  Syracuse,  in  the  presence  of  her  father 
and  her  husband,  and  so  inanimate  was  she  that  the  meeting 
seemed  like  the  conclusion  of  their  history.  Her  brother 
Roland  sent  tidings  of  her  by  fits,  and  sometimes  a  conven- 
tional message  from  Tourdcstelle.  Latterly  her  husband's 
name  had  been  cited  as  among  the  wildfires  of  Parisian 
quags,  in  journals  more  or  less  devoted  to  those  unreclaimed 
spaces  of  the  city.  Well,  if  she  was  unhappy,  was  it  not  the 
fulfilment  of  his  pi-ophecy  in  Venice  ? 

Renee's  brevity  became  luminous.  She  needed  him 
urgently,  and  knowing  him  faithful  to  the  death,  she, 
because  she  knew  him,  dispatched  purely  the  words  which 
said  she  needed  him.  Why,  those  brief  words  were  the 
poetry  of  noble  confidence !  But  what  could  her  distress 
be  ?  The  lover  was  able  to  read  that,  '  Come ;  I  give  you 
three  days,'  addressed  to  him,  was  not  language  of  a  woman 
free  of  her  yoke. 

Excited  to  guess  and  guess,  Beauchamp  swept  on  to 
speculations  of  a  madness  that  seized  him  bodily  at  last. 
Were  you  loved,  Cecilia  ?  He  thought  little  of  politics  in 
relation  to  Renee ;  or  of  home,  or  of  honour  in  the  world's 
eye,  or  of  labouring  to  pay  the  fee  for  his  share  of  life. 
This  at  least  was  one  of  the  forms  of  love  which  precipitate 
men :  the  sole  thought  in  him  was  to  be  with  her.  She  was 
Renee,  the  girl  of  whom  he  had  prophetically  said  that  she 
must  come  to  regrets  and-  tears.  His  vision  of  her  was  not 
at  Tourdcstelle,  though  he  assumed  her  to  be  there  awaiting 
him :  she  was  under  the  sea-shadowing  Alps,  looking  up  to 
the  red  and  gold-rosed  heights  of  a  realm  of  morning  that 


TOUEDESTELLE.  193 

was  hers  inviolably,  and  under  wliicli  Renee  was  eternally 
his. 

The  interval  between  then  and  now  was  but  the  space  of 
an  unquiet  sea  traversed  in  the  night,  sad  in  the  passage  of 
it,  but  featureless — and  it  had  proved  him  right !  It  was  to 
Nevil  Beauchamp  as  if  the  spirit  of  his  old  passion  woke  up 
again  to  glorious  hopeful  morning  when  he  stood  in  Renee's 
France. 

Tourdestelle  enjoyed  the  aristocratic  privilege  of  being 
twelve  miles  from  the  nearest  railway  station.  Alighting 
here  on  an  evening  of  clear  sky,  Beauchamp  found  an 
English  groom  ready  to  dismount  for  him  and  bring  on  his 
portmanteau.  The  man  said  that  his  mistress  had  been 
twice  to  the  station,  and  was  now  at  the  neighbouring 
Chateau  Dianet.  Thither  Beauchamp  betook  himself  on 
horseback.  He  was  informed  at  the  gates  that  Madame  la 
marquise  had  left  for  Tourdestelle  in  the  saddle  only  ten 
minutes  previously.  The  lodge-keeper  had  been  instructed 
to  invite  him  to  stay  at  Chateau  Dianet  in  the  event  of  his 
arriving  late,  but  it  would  be  possible  to  overtake  madame 
by  a  cut  across  the  heights  at  a  turn  of  the  valley,  Beau- 
champ pushed  along  the  valley  for  this  visible  projection ;  a 
towering  mass  of  woodland,  in  the  midst  of  which  a  narrow 
roadway,  worn  like  the  track  of  a  torrent  with  heavy  rain, 
wound  upward.  On  his  descent  to  the  farther  side,  he  was 
to  spy  directly  below  in  the  flat  for  Tourdestelle.  He 
crossed  the  wooded  neck  above  the  valley,  and  began  de- 
scending, peering  into  gTilfs  of  the  twilight  dusk.  Some 
paces  down  he  was  aided  by  a  brilliant  half -moon  that 
divided  the  whole  underlying  country  into  sharp  outlines  of 
dark  and  fair,  and  while  endeavouring  to  distinguish  the 
chateau  of  Tourdestelle  his  eyes  were  attracted  to  an  angle 
of  the  downward  zigzag,  where  a  pair  of  horses  emerged 
into  broad  light  swiftly ;  apparently  the  riders  were  dis- 
puting, or  one  had  overtaken  the  other  in  pursuit.  Riding- 
habit  and  plumed  hat  signalized  the  sex  of  one.  Beauchamp 
sung  out  a  gondolier's  cry.  He  fancied  it  was  answered. 
He  was  heard,  for  the  lady  turned  about,  and  as  he  rode 
down,  still  uncertain  of  her,  she  came  cantering  up  alone, 
and  there  could  be  no  uncertainty. 

Moonlight  is  friendless  to  eyes  that  would  make  sure  of  a 
face  long  unseen.     It  was  Renee  whose  hand  he  clasped,  but 

0 


194  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

tlie  story  of  tlie  years  on  her,  and  whether  she  was  in  bloom, 
or  wan  as  the  beams  revealing  her,  he  could  not  see. 

Her  tongue  sounded  to  him  as  if  it  were  loosened  with- 
out a  voice.  "  You  have  come.  That  storm !  You  are 
safe!" 

So  phantom-like  a  sound  of  speech  alarmed  him..  "  I  lost 
no  time.     But  you  ?" 

"I  am  well." 

"  Nothing  hangs  over  you  ?" 

"  Nothing." 

*'  Why  give  me  just  three  days  ?" 

"  Pure  impatience.     Have  you  forgotten  me  ?'* 

Their  horses  walked  on  with  them.  They  unlocked  their 
hands. 

•'  You  knevv^  it  was  I  ?"  said  he. 

"  Who  else  could  it  be  ?     I  heard  Venice,"  she  replied. 

Her  previous  cavalier  was  on  his  feet,  all  but  on  his  knees, 
it  appeared,  searching  f(fr  something  that  eluded  him  under 
the  road- side  bank.  He  sprang  at  it  and  waved  it,  leapt  in 
the  saddle,  and  remarked,  as  he  drew  up  beside  Renee  : 
"  What  one  picks  from  the  earth  one  may  wear,  I  presume, 
especially  when  we  can  protest  it  is  our  property." 

Beauchamp  saw  him  planting  a  white  substance  most  care- 
fully at  the  breast  buttonhole  of  his  coat.  It  could  hardly 
be  a  flower.  Some  drooping  exotic  of  the  conservatory 
perhaps  resembled  it. 

Renee  pronounced  his  name :  "  M.  le  comte  Henri 
d'Henriel." 

He  bowed  to  Beauchamp  with  an  extreme  sweqp  of  the  hat. 

"  Last  night,  ]\[.  Beauchamp,  we  put  up  vows  for  yon  to 
the  Marine  God,  beseeching  an  exemption  from  that  horrible 
mal  de  mer.  Thanks  to  the  storm,  I  suppose,  I  have  won. 
I  must  maintain,  madame,  that  I  won." 

"  You  wear  your  trophy,"  said  Renee,  and  her  horse  reared 
and  darted  ahead. 

The  gentleman  on  each  side  of  her  struck  into  a  trot. 
Beauchamp  glanced  at  M.  d'Henriel's  breast-decoration. 
Renee  pressed  the  pace,  and  threading  dense  covers  of  foliage 
they  reached  the  level  of  the  valley,  wliere  for  a  couple  of 
miles  she  led  them,  stretching  away  merrily,  now  in  shadow, 
now  in  moonlight,  between  high  land  and  meadow  land,  and 
a  line  of  poplars  in  the  meadows  winding  with  the  river  that 


TOUEDESTELLE.  195 

fed  the  vale  and  shot  forth  gleams  of  silvery  disquiet  by 
rustic  bridge  and  mill. 

The  strangeness  of  being  beside  her,  not  having  yet  scanned 
her  face,  marvelling  at  her  voice — that  was  like  and  unlike 
the  Renee  of  old,  full  of  her,  but  in  another  key,  a  mellow 
note,  maturer — made  the  ride  magical  to  Beauchamp, planting 
the  past  in  the  present  like  a  perceptible  ghost. 

Renee  slackened  speed,  saying :  "  Tourdestelle  spans  a 
branch  of  our  little  river.  This  is  our  gate.  Had  it  been 
daylight  I  would  have  taken  you  by  another  way,  and  you 
would  have  seen  the  black  tower  burnt  in  the  Revolution;  an 
imposing  monument,  I  am  assured.  However,  you  will  think 
it  pretty  beside  the  stream.  Do  you  come  with  us,  M.  le 
comte  P" 

His  answer  was  inaudible  to  Beauchamp ;  he  did  not  quit 
them. 

The  lamp  at  the  lodge-gates  presented  the  young  man's 
face  in  full  view,  and  Beauchamp  thought  him  supremely 
handsome.  He  perceived  it  to  be  a  lady's  glove  that  M. 
d'Hemiel  wore  at  his  breast. 

Renee  walked  her  horse  up  the  park-drive,  alongside  the 
bright  running  water.  It  seemed  that  she  was  aware  of  the 
method  of  provoking  or  reproving  M.  d'Henriel.  He  endured 
some  minutes  of  total  speechlessness  at  this  pace,  and  abruptly 
said  adieu  and  turned  back. 

Renee  bounded  like  a  vessel  free  of  her  load.  "  But  why 
should  we  hurry  ?"  said  she,  and  checked  her  course  to  the 
walk  again.  "  I  hope  you  will  like  our  Normandy,  and  my 
valley.  You  used  to  love  France,  Nevil;  and  l!^ormandy, 
they  tell  me,  is  cousin  to  the  opposite  coast  of  England,  in 
climate,  soil,  people,  it  may  be  in  manners  too.  A  Beau- 
champ never  can  feel  that  he  is  a  foreigner  in  Normandy. 
We  claim  you  half  French.  You  have  grander  parks,  they 
say.     We  can  give  you  sunlight.'* 

"  And  it  was  really  only  the  wish  to  see  me  ?"  said 
Beauchamp. 

"  Only,  and  really.  One  does  not  live  for  ever — on  earth ; 
and  it  becomes  a  question  whether  friends  should  be  shadows 
to  one  another  before  death.  I  wrote  to  you  because  I  wished 
to  see  you:  I  was  impatient  because  I  am  Renee." 

"  You  relieve  me  !" 

"  Evidently  you  have  forgotten  my  character,  ISTevil.** 

0  2 


196  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAflEEB. 

"Not  a  feature  of  it." 

"  Ah  !"  she  breathed  involuntarily. 

"  Would  you  have  me  forget  it  ?" 

"  When  I  think  by  myself,  quite  alone,  yes,  I  would. 
Otherwise  how  can  one  hope  that  one's  friend  is  friendship, 
supposing  him  to  read  us  as  we  are — minutely,  accurately? 
And  it  is  in  absence  that  we  desire  our  friends  to  be  friend- 
ship itself.  And  .  .  .  and  ]  am  utterly  astray  !  I  have  not 
dealt  in  this  language  since  I  last  thought  of  writing  a  diary, 
and  stared  at  the  first  line.  If  I  mistake  not,  you  arc  fond  of 
the  picturesque.  If  moonlight  and  water  will  satisfy  you, 
look  yonder." 

The  moon  launched  her  fairy  silver  fleets  on  a  double 
sweep  of  the  little  river  round  an  island  of  reeds  and  two 
tall  poplars. 

"  I  have  wondered  whether  I  should  ever  see  you  looking 

at  that  scene,"  said  Renee. 

He  looked  from   it  to  her,  and  asked  if   Roland  was  well, 

i 
and    her   father ;    then    alluded    to    her    husband ;    but   the 

unlettering  elusive  moon,  bright  only  in  the  extension  of  her 

beams,  would  not  tell  him  what  story  this  face,  once  heaven 

to  him,   wore  imprinted  on  it.     Her  smile  upon  h  parted 

mouth  struck  him  as  two-edged  in  replying :  "  I  have  good 

news  to  give  you  of  them  all :  Roland  is  in  garrison  at  Rouen, 

and  will  come  when  I  telegraph.     My  father  is  in  Touraine, 

and  greets  you  affectionately  ;  he  hoi)es  to  come.     They  are 

both  perfectly  happy.     My  husband  is  travelling." 

Beauchamp  was  conscious  of  some  bitter  taste  ;  unaware 
of  what  it  was,  though  it  led  him  to  say,  undesigningly  : 
"  How  very  handsome  that  M.  d'Henriel  is  ! — if  I  have  his 
name  correctly." 

Renee  answered  :  "He  luxs  the  misfortune  to  be  considered 
the  handsomest  young  nu.n  in  France." 

"He  has  an  Italian  look." 

"  His  mother  was  Provencale." 

She  put  her  horse  in  motion,  saying:  "I  agree  with  you 
that  handsome  men  are  rarities.  And,  by  the  way,  they  do 
not  set  our  world  on  fire  quite  as  much  as  beautiful  women 
do  yours,  my  friend.     Acknowledge  so  much  in  our  favour." 

He  assented  indefinitely.  He  could  have  wished  himself 
away  canvassing  in  Bevisham.  He  had  only  to  imagine  him- 
self away  from  her,  to  feel  the  flood  of  joy  in  being  with  her 


TOURDESTELLB.  197 

"Your  husband  is  travelling  ?" 

"It  is  his  pleasure." 

Could  she  have  intended  to  say  that  this  was  good  news 
to  give  of  him  as  well  as  of  the  happiness  of  her  father  and 
brother  ? 

"  Now  look  on  Tourdestelle,"  said  Renee.  "You  will  avow 
that  for  an  active  man  to  be  condemned  to  seek  repose  in  so 
dull  a  place,  after  the  fatigues  of  the  season  in  Paris,  it  is 
considerably  worse  than  for  women,  so  I  am  here  to  dispense 
the  hospitalities.  The  right  wing  of  the  chateau,  on  your 
left,  is  new.  The  side  abutting  the  river  is  inhabited  by 
Dame  Philiberte,  whom  her  husband  imprisoned  for  attempt- 
ing to  take  her  pleasure  in  travel.  I  hear  upon  authority 
that  she  dresses  in  white,  and  wears  a  black  crucifix.  She 
is  many  centuries  old,  and  still  she  lives  to  remind  people 
that  she  married  a  Rouaillout.  Do  you  not  think  she  should 
have  come  to  me  to  welcome  me  ?  She  never  has  ;  and  pos- 
sibly of  ladies  who  are  disembodied  we  may  say  that  they 
know  best.  For  me,  I  desire  the  interview — and  I  am  a 
coward:  I  need  not  state  it."  She  ceased;  presently  con- 
tinuing :  "  The  other  inhabitants  are  my  sister,  Agnes 
d'Auffray,  wife  of  a  general  officer  serving  in  Africa — my 
sister  by  marriage,  and  my  friend ;  the  baronne  d'Orbec,  a 
relation  by  marriage  ;  M.  d'Orbec,  her  son,  a  guest,  and  a 
sportsman  ;  M.  Livret,  an  erudite.  No  young  ladies  :  I  can 
bear  much,  but  not  their  presence  ;  girls  are  odious  to  me. 
I  kn«w  one  in  Venice." 

They  came  within  the  rays  of  the  lamp  hanging  above  the 
unpretending  entrance  to  the  chateau.  Renee's  broad  grey 
Longueville  hat  curved  low  with  its  black  plume  on  the  side 
farthest  from  him.  He  was  favoured  by  the  gallant  lift  of 
the  brim  on  the  near  side,  but  she  had  overshadowed  her 
eyes. 

"  He  wears  a  glove  at  his  breast,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"  You  speak  of  M.  d'Henriel.  He  wears  a  glove  at  his 
breast ;  yes,  it  is  mine,"  said  Renee. 

She  slipped  from  her  horse  and  stood  against  his  shoulder, 
as  if  waiting  to  be  questioned  before  she  rang  the  bell  of 
the  chateau. 

Beauchamp  alighted,  burning  with  his  unutterable  ques- 
tions concerning  that  glove. 

"  Lift  your  hat,  let  me  beg  you  ;  let  me  see  you,"  he  said. 


198 

This  was  not  what  she  had  expected.  With  one  heave  of 
her  bosom,  and  murmuring :  "  I  made  a  vow  I  would  obey 
you  absolutely  if  you  came,"  she  raised  the  hat  above  her 
brows,  and  lightning  would  not  have  surprised  him  more ; 
for  there  had  not  been  a  single  vibration  of  her  voice  to  tell 
him  of  tears  running:  nay,  the  absence  of  the  usual  French 
formalities  in  her  manner  of  addressing  him,  had  seemed  to 
him  to  indicate  her  intention  to  put  him  at  once  on  an  easy 
friendly  footing,  such  as  would  be  natural  to  her,  and  not 
painful  to  him.  Now  she  said  :  "  You  perceive,  monsieur, 
that  I  have  my  sentimental  fits  like  others  ;  but  in  truth  I 
am  not  insensible  to  the  picturesque  or  to  gratitude,  and  I 
thank  you  sincerely  for  coming,  considering  that  I  wrote  like 
a  Sphinx — to  evade  writing  comnie  une  folle  !" 

She  swept  to  the  bell. 

Standing  in  the  arch  of  the  entrance,  she  stretched  her 
whip  out  to  a  black  mass  of  prostrate  timber,  saying:  "It 
fell  in  the  storm  at  two  o'clock  after  midnight,  and  }0u  on 
the  seal" 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

HIS  HOLIDAY. 


A  SINGLE  day  was  to  be  the  term  of  his  holiday  at  Tour- 
destelle;  but  it  stood  forth  as  one  of  those  perfect  days 
which  are  rounded  by  an  evening  before  and  a  moi-ning 
after,  giving  him  two  nights  under  the  same  roof  with  Renee, 
something  of  a  resemblance  to  three  days  of  her;  anticipa- 
tion and  wonder  filling  the  first,  she  the  next,  the  adieu  the 
last :  every  hour  filled.  And  the  first  day  was  not  over  yet. 
He  forced  himself  to  calmness,  that  he  might  not  fritter  it, 
and  walked  up  and  down  the  room  he  was  dressing  in,  ex- 
amining its  foreign  decorations,  and  peering  through  the 
window,  to  quiet  his  nerves.  He  was  in  her  own  Franco 
with  her !  The  country  borrowed  hues  from  Rcnee,  and 
lent  some.  This  chivalrous  France  framed  and  interlaced 
her  image,  aided  in  idefilizing  her,  and  M'as  in  turn  trans- 
figured.   Not  half  so  well  would  his  native  laml  have  j)lL'a<i(Ml 


HIS  HOLIDAY.  199 

for  the  forgiveness  of  a  British  damsel  who  had  wrecked  a  -y 
young  man's  immoderate  first  love.     That  glorified  self-loveK 
requires  the  touch  upon  imagination  of  strangeness  and  an   ,' 
unaccustomed  gi-ace,  to  subdue  it  and  make  it  pardon  an  ' 
outrage  to  its  temples  and  altars,  and  its  happy  reading  of 
the  heavens,  the   earth  too  :  earth  foremost,  we  ought  per- 
liaps  to  say.     It  is  an  exacting  heathen,  best  understood  by 
a   glance   at  what  will    appease    it :  beautiful,  however,  as 
everybody  has   proved ;  and  shall  it  be  decried  in  a  world 
where  beauty  is  not  overcommon,  though  it  would  slaughter 
us  for  its  angry  satisfaction,  yet  can  be  soothed  by  a  tone  of 
colour,  as  it  were  by  a  novel  inscription  on  a  sweetmeat  ? 

The  peculiarity  of  Beauchamp  was  that  he  knew  the 
slenuerness  of  the  thread  which  was  leading  him,  and  fpre- 
saw  it  twisting  to  a  coil  unless  he  should  hold  firm.  His 
work  in  life  was  much  above  the  love  of  a  woman  in  his 
estimation,  so  he  was  not  deluded  by  passion  when  he 
entered  the  chateau;  it  .is  doubtful  whether  he  would  not 
hesitatingly  have  sacrificed  one  of  the  precious  votes  in 
Bevisham  for  the  pleasure  of  kissing  her  hand  when  they 
were  on  the  steps.  She  was  his  first  love  and  only  love, 
married,  and  long  ago  forgiven : — married ;  that  is  to  say, 
she  especially  among  women  was  interdicted  to  him  by  the 
lingering  shadow  of  the  reverential  love  gone  by ;  and  if  the 
anguish  of  the  lover's  worse  than  death  survived  in  a  shudder 
of  memory  at  the  thought  of  her  not  solely  lost  to  him  but 
possessed  by  another,  it  did  but  quicken  a  hunger  that  was 
three  parts  curiosity  to  see  how  she  who  had  suffered  this 
bore  the  change ;  how  like  or  unlike  she  might  be  to  the 
extinct  Renee ;  what  iraces  she  kept  of  the  face  he  had 
known.  Her  tears  were  startling,  but  tears  tell  of  a  mood,  they 
do  not  tell  the  story  of  the  yeai'S  ;  and  it  was  that  story  he 
had  such  eagerness  to  read  in  one  brief  revelation  :  an  eager- 
ness born  only  of  the  last  few  hours,  and  broken  by  fears  of 
a  tarnished  aspect ;  these  again  being  partly  hopes  of  a 
coming  disillusion  that  would  restore  him  his  independence 
and  ask  him  only  for  pity.  The  slavery  of  the  love  of  a 
woman  chained  like  Renee  was  the  most  revolting  of  pros- 
pects to  a  man  who  cherished  his  freedom  that  he  might 
work  to  the  end  of  his  time.  Moreover,  it  swung  a  thunder- 
cloud across  his  holiday.  He  recurred  to  the  idea  of  the 
holiday  repeatedly,  and  the  more  he  did  so  the  thinner  it 


200 

waned.  He  was  exhausting  the  very  air  and  spirit  of  it 
with  a  mind  that  ran  incessantly  forward  and  back  ;  and 
when  he  and  the  lady  of  so  much  speculation  were  again 
together,  an  incapacity  of  observation  seemed  to  have 
come  over  him.  In  reality  it  was  the  inability  to  reflect  on 
his  observations.  Her  presence  resembled  those  dark  sun- 
sets throwing  the  spell  of  colour  across  the  woi-ld ;  when 
there  is  no  question  with  us  of  moi-ning  or  of  night,  but  of 
that  sole  splendour  only. 

Owing  to  their  arrival  late  at  the  chateau,  covers  w^ere 
laid  for  them  in  the  boudoir  of  Madame  la  marquise,  where 
he  had  his  hostess  to  himself,  and  certainl}^  the  opportunity 
of  studying  her.  An  English  jS^avy  List  solitary  on  a  shelf', 
and  laid  within  it  an  extract  of  a  paper  announcing  the 
return  of  the  Ariadne  to  port,  explained  the  mystery  of  her 
knowing  that  he  was  in  England,  as  well  as  the  coi-rectiiess 
of  the  superscription  of  her  letter  to  him.  "  You  see,  I 
follow  you,"  she  said. 

Beauchamp  asked  if  she  read  English  now. 

"  A  little ;  but  the  paper  was  dispatched  to  me  by  M. 
Yivian  Ducie,  of  your  embassy  in  Paris.  He  is  in  the 
valley." 

The  name  of  Ducie  recalled  Lord  Palmet's  description  of 
the  dark  beauty  of  the  fluttering  pale  gold  ornaments.  Slie 
was  now  dressed  without  one  decoration  of  gold  or  jewel, 
with  scarcely  a  w^ave  in  the  silk,  a  modesty  of  style  elocpient 
of  the  pride  of  her  foi-m. 

Could  those  eyes  fronting  him  under  the  lamp  have 
recently  shed  tears?  They  were  the  living  eyes  of  a  bril- 
liant unembarrassed  lady;  shields  flinging  light  rather  than 
well-depths  inviting  it. 

Beauchamp  tried  to  compare  her  with  the  Renee  of  Venice, 
and  found  himself  thinking  of  the  glove  she  had  surrcTuIered 
to  the  handsomest  young  man  in  Fra^ice.  The  efl'ort  to 
recover  the  younger  face  gave  him  a  dead  creature,  'with'the 
eyelashes  of  Renee,  the  cast  of  her  mouth  and  throat,  misty 
as  a  shape  in  a  di-eam. 

He  could  compare  her  with  Cecilia,  who  never  would  have 
risked  a  glove,  never  have  ])et rayed  a  tear,  and  was  the 
statelier  lady,  not  without  language :  but  how  much  less 
vivid  in  feature  and  the  gift  of  speech  !  Renee's  gift  of 
speech  counted  unnumbered    strings  which   she   played   on 


HIS  HOLIDAY.  201 

with  a  grace    that  clothed  the   skill,  and  was  her  natural 
endowment — an  art  perfected  by  the  education  of  the  world. 
Who  cannot  talk  ! — but  who  can  ?     Discover  the  writers  in    , 
a  day  when  all  are  writing  !     It  is  as  rare  an  art  as  poetry,^ 
and  in  the  mouths  of  women  as  enrapturing,  richer  than 
their  voices  in  music. 

This  was  the  fascination  Beauchamp  felt  weaving  round 
him.  Would  you,  that  are  separable  from  boys  and  mobs, 
and  the  object  malignly  called  the  Briton,  prefer  the  celestial 
singing  of  a  woman  to  her  excellently  talking  ?  But  not  if 
it  were  given  you  to  run  in  unison  with  her  genius  of  the 
tongue,  following  her  verbal  ingenuities  and  feminine  silk- 
flashes  of  meaning  ;  not  if  she  led  you  to  match  her  fine 
quick  perceptions  with  more  or  less  of  the  discreet  concord- 
ance of  the  violincello  accompanying  the  viol.  It  is  not  high 
fljing,  which  usually  ends  in  heavy  falling.  You  quit  the 
level  of  earth  no  more  than  two  birds  that  chase  from  bush 
to  bush  to  bill  in  air  for  mutual  delight  to  make  the  concert 
heavenly.  Language  flowed  from  Renee  in  afiinity  with  the 
pleasure-giving  laws  that  make  the  curves  we  recognize  as 
beauty  in  sublimer  arts.  Accept  companionship  for  the 
dearest  of  the  good  things  we  pray  to  have,  and  what 
equalled  her  !     Who  could  be  her  rival ! 

Her  girl's  crown  of  irradiated  Alps  began  to  tremble  over 
her  dimly,  as  from  moment  to  moment  their  intimacy  warmed, 
and  Beauchamp  saw  the  young  face  vanishing  out  of  this 
flower  of  womanhood.  He  did  not  see  it  appearing  or 
present,  but  vanishing  like  the  faint  ray  in  the  rosier.  Nay, 
the  blot  of  her  faithlessness  underwent  a  transformation :  it 
affected  him  somewhat  as  the  patch  cunningly  laid  on  near 
a  liquid  dimple  in  fair  cheeks  at  once  allures  and  evades  a 
susceptible  attention. 

Unused  in  his  French  of  late,  he  stumbled  at  times,  and 
she  supplied  the  needed  phrase,  taking  no  note  of  a  blunder. 
Now  men  of  sweet  blood  cannot  be  secretly  accusing  or 
crit'cizing  a  gracious  lady.  Domestic  men  are  charged  with 
thinking  instantly  of  dark  death  when  an  ordinary  illness 
befalls  them ;  and  it  may  be  so  or  not :  but  it  is  positive  that 
the  gallant  man  of  the  world,  if  he  is  in  the  sensitive  con- 
dition, and  not  yet  established  as  the  lord  of  her,  feels 
paralyzed  in  his  masculine  sense  of  leadership  the  moment 
his  lady  assumes  the  initiative  and  directs  him:  he  gives  up 


202 

at  once ;  and  thus  have  many  nimble-witted  dames  from  one 
clear  start  retained  their  advantage. 

Concerning  that  glove:  well!  the  handsomest  young  man 
in  France  wore  the  glove  of  the  loveliest  woman.  The 
loveliest  ?  The  very  loveliest  in  the  purity  of  her  French 
style — the  woman  to  challenge  England  for  a  type  of  beauty 
to  eclipse  her.  It  was  possible  to  conceive  her  country 
wagering  her  against  all  women. 

If  Renee  had  faults,  Beauchamp  thought  of  her  as  at  sea 
breasting  tempests,  while  Cecilia  was  a  vessel  lying  safe  in 
harbour,  untried,  however  promising :  and  if  Cecilia  raised 
a  steady  light  for  him,  it  was  over  the  shores  he  had  left 
behind,  while  Renee  had  really  nothing  to  do  with  warning 
or  rescuing,  or  with  imperilling ;  she  welcomed  him  simply 
to  a  holiday  in  her  society.  He  associated  Cecilia  strangely 
with  the  political  labours  she  would  have  had  him  relin- 
quish ;  and  Renee  with  a  pleasant  state  of  indolence,  that 
her  lightest  smile  disturbed.     Shun  comparisons. 

It  is  the  tricksy  heart  which  sets  up  that  balance,  to  jump 
into  it  on  one  side  or  the  other.  Comparisons  come  of  a 
secret  leaning  that  is  sure  to  play  rogue  under  its  mien  of 
honest  dealer :  so  Beauchamp  suifered  himself  to  be  unjust 
to  graver  England,  and  lost  the  strength  she  would  have 
given  him  to  resist  a  bewitchment.  The  case  with  him  was, 
that  his  apprenticeship  was  new ;  he  had  been  trotting  in 
harness  as  a  veritable  cab-horse  of  politics — he  by  blood  a 
racer ;  and  his  nature  craved  for  diversions,  against  his  will, 
against  his  moral  sense  and  born  tenacity  of  spirit. 

Kot  a  word  further  of  the  glove.  But  at  night,  m  his  bed, 
the  glove  was  a  principal  actor  in  events  of  extraordinary 
magnitude  and  inconsequence.  He  was  out  in  the  grounds 
with  the  early  morning  light.  Coffee  and  sweet  French 
bread  Avere  brought  out  to  him,  and  he  was  informed  of  the 
hours  of  reunion  at  the  chateau,  whose  mistress  continued 
invisible.  She  might  be  sleeping.  He  strolled  about,  within 
view  of  the  windows,  wondering  at  her  subservience  to  sleep. 
Tourdestelle  lay  in  one  of  those  Xorman  valle^^s  where  tlie 
river  is  the  mother  of  rich  pasture,  and  runs  hidden  between 
double  ranks  of  sallows,  aspens  and  poplars,  that  mark  its 
winding  line  in  the  arms  of  trenched  meadows.  The  high 
and  on  either  side  is  an  un watered  flat  up  to  the  horizon, 
ittle  varied  by  dusty  apple-trees  planted  in  the  stubble  here 


HIS  HOLIDAY.  203 

and  there,  and  brown  mnd  walls  of  hamleis ;  a  cliurcli-top,  a 
copse,  an  avenue  of  dwarf  limes  leading  to  the  three-parts 
farm,  quarter  residence  of  an  enriched  peasant  striking  new 
roots,  or  decayed  proprietor  pinching  not  to  be  severed  from 
ancient.  Descending  on  the  deep  green  valley  in  Summer 
is  like  a  change  of  climes.  The  chateau  stood  square  at  a 
branch  of  the  river,  tossing  three  light  bridges  of  pretty 
woodwork  to  park  and  garden.  Great  bouquets  of  swelling 
blue  and  pink  hydrangia  nestled  at  its  feet  on  shaven  grass. 
An  open  window  showed  a  cloth  of  colour,  as  in  a  remi- 
niscence of  Italy. 

Beauchamp  heard  himself  addressed  : — "  Ton  are  looking 
for  my  sister-in-law,  M.  Beauchamp  ?" 

The  speaker  was  Madame  d'Aufl'ray,  to  whom  he  had  been 
introduced  overnight — a  lady  of  the  aquiline  French  outline, 
not  ungentle. 

Renee  had  spoken  affectionately  of  her,  he  remembered. 
There  was  nothing  to  make  him  be  on  his  guard,  and  he 
stated  that  he  was  looking  for  Madame  de  Rouaillout,  and 
did  not  conceal  surprise  at  the  information  that  she  was  out 
on  horseback. 

"  She  is  a  tireless  person,"  Madame  d'Auffray  remarked. 
"  You  will  not  miss  her  long.  We  all  meet  at  twelve,  as  you 
know." 

"  I  grudge  an  hour,  for  I  go  to-morrow,"  said  Beauchamp. 

The  notification  of  so  early  a  departure,  or  else  his  bhmt- 
ness,  astonished  her.  She  fell  to  praising  Renee's  goodness. 
He  kept  her  to  it  with  lively  inteiTogations,  in  the  manner 
of  a  guileless  boy  urging  for  eulogies  of  his  dear  absent 
friend.     Was  it  duplicity  in  him  or  artlessness  ? 

"  Has  she,  do  you  think,  increased  in  beauty  ?"  Madame 
d'Auff'ray  inquired :  an  insidious  question,  to  which  he 
replied : 

"  Once  I  thought  it  would  be  impossible." 

Not  so  bad  an  answer  for  an  Englishman,  in  a  country 
where  speaking  is  fencing ;  the  race  being  little  famous  for 
dialectical  alertness  :  but  was  it  artful  or  simple  ? 

They  skirted  the  chateau,  and  Beauchamp  had  the  history 
of  Dame  Philiberte  recounted  to  him,  with  a  mixture  of 
Gallic  irony,  innuendo,  openness,  touchingness,  ridicule,  and 
charity  novel  to  his  ears.  Madame  d'Auffray  struck  the 
note  of  intimacy  earlier  than  is  habitual.     She  soundeid  him 


204  BEATJCHAMP'S  CAREEPv 

in  this  way  once  or  twice,  carelessly  pei-using  him,  and 
waiting  for  the  interesting  edition  of  tlie  Book  of  Man  to 
summarize  its  character  by  showing  its  pages  or  remaining 
shut.  It  was  done  delicately,  like  the  tap  of  a  finger-nail 
on  a  vase.  He  rang  clear;  he  had  nothing  to  conceal  ;  and 
where  he  was  reserved,  that  is,  in  speaking  of  the  developed 
beauty  and  grace  of  Renee,  he  was  transparent.  She  read 
the  sort  of  man  he  was  ;  she  could  also  hazard  a  guess  as  to 
the  man's  present  state.  She  ventured  to  think  him  com- 
paratively harmless — for  the  hour  :  for  she  was  not  the 
woman  to  be  hoodwinked  by  man's  dark  nature  because  she 
inclined  to  think  well  of  a  particular  man;  nor  was  she  ojie 
to  trust  to  any  man  subject  to  temptation.  The  wisdom  of 
the  Frenchwoman's  fortieth  year  forbade  it.  A  land  Avhei-e 
the  war  between  the  sexes  is  honestly  acknowledged,  and  is 
full  of  instruction,  abounds  in  precepts;  but  it  ill  becomes 
the  veteran  to  practise  rigorously  what  she  would  presci-ibe 
to  young  women.  She  may  discriminate  ;  as  thus  : — Tru^t 
no  man.  Still,  this  man  may  be  better  than  that  man  ;  and 
it  is  bad  policy  to  distrust  a  reasonably  guileless  member  of 
the  preying  sex  entirely,  and  so  to  lose  his  good  services. 
Hawks  have  their  uses  in  destroying  vermin  ;  and  though 
we  cannot  rely  upon  the  taming  of  hawks,  one  tied  by  the 
leg  in  a  garden  preserves  the  fruit. 

"  There  is  a  necessity  for  your  leaving  us  to-morrow, 
M.  Beauchamp  ?" 

"  I  regret  to  say,  it  is  imperative,  madame." 

"  My  husband  willcono-ratulate  me  on  the  ],leasure  I  have, 
and  have  long  desired,  of  making  your  acquaintance,  and  he 
will  grieve  that  he  has  not  been  so  foi-tnnate  ;  he  is  on 
service  in  Africa.  ]\Iy  brother,  I  need  not  say,  will  deploi-e 
the  mischance  which  has  prevented  him  from  welcoming 
you.  I  have  telegraphed  to  him  ;  he  is  at  one  of  the  Baths 
in  Germany,  and  will  come  assui-edly,  if  there  is  a  prospect 
of  finding  you  here.  None  ?  Supposing  my  telegram  not 
to  fall  short  of  him,  I  may  count  on  his  being  here  witlMU 
four  days." 

Beauchamp  begged  her  to  convey  the  proper  expressions 
of  his  regret  to  M.  le  marquis. 

"  And  M.  de  Croisnel  ?  And  Roland,  your  old  comrade 
and  broth er-in- arms?  What  will  be  their  disappointment !' 
she  said. 


HIS  HOLIDAY.  205 

"I  intend  to  stop  for  an  hour  at  Ronen  on  my  way  back," 
said  Beauchamp. 

She  asked  if  her  belle-soenr  was  aware  of  the  short  limita- 
tion of  his  vist. 

He  had  not  mentioned  it  to  Madame  la  marquise. 

"  Perhaps  you  may  be  moved  by  the  grief  of  a  friend : 
Renee  may  persuade  you  to  stay." 

"  T  came  imagining  I  could  be  of  some  use  to  Madame  la 
marquise.     She  writes  as  if  she  were  telegraphing." 

"  Perfectly  true  of  her !  For  that  matter,  I  saw  the 
letter.  Your  looks  betray  a  very  natural  jealousy;  but 
seeing  it  or  not  it  would  have  been  the  same  :  she  and  I  have 
no  secrets.  She  was,  I  may  tell  you,  strictly  unable  to 
write  more  words  in  the  letter.  Which  brings  me  to  inquire 
what  impression  M.  d'Henriel  made  on  you  yesterday 
evening." 

"  He  is  particularly  handsome." 

"  We  women  think  so.  Did  you  take  him  to  be  ,  .  .  . 
eccentric  ?" 

Beauchamp  gave  a  French  jerk  of  the  shoulders. 

It  cojifessed  the  incident  of  the  glove  to  one  who  knew  it 
as  well  as  he :  but  it  masked  the  weight  he  was  beginning 
to  attach  to  that  incident,  and  Madame  d'Auffray  was  mis- 
led. Truly,  the  English  man  may  be  just  such  an  ex-lover, 
uninflammable  by  virtue  of  his  blood's  native  coldness ; 
endued  with  the  frozen  vanity  called  pride,  which  does  not 
seek  to  be  revenged.  Under  wary  esj^ionage,  he  might  be  a 
young  woman's  friend,  though  male  friend  of  a  half-aban- 
doned wife  should  write  himself  down  morally  saint, 
m.entally  sage,  medically  incurable,  if  he  would  win  our 
confidence. 

This  lady  of  sharp  intelligence  was  the  guardian  of  Renee 
during  the  foolish  husband's  flights  about  Paris  and  over 
Europe,  and,  for  a  proof  of  her  consummate  astuteness, 
Renee  had  no  secrets  and  had  absolute  liberty.  And  hitherto 
no  man  could  build  a  boast  on  her  reputation.  The  liberty 
she  would  have  had  at  any  cost,  as  Madame  d'Auffi-ay 
knew;  and  an  attempt  to  restrict  it  would  have  created 
secrets. 

Near  upon  the  breakfast-hour  Renee  was  perceived  by 
them  going  toward  the  chateau  at  a  walking  pace.  They 
crossed  one  of  the   garden  bridges  to  intercept  her.     She 


206 

started  out  of  some  deejo  meditation,  and  raised  her  whip 
hand  to  Beauchamp's  greeting.  "  I  had  forgotten  to  tell 
yon,  monsieur,  that  I  should  be  out  for  some  hours  in  the 
m.orning." 

"  Are  you  aware,"  said  Madame  d'Auffray.  "  that  M. 
Beauchamp  leaves  us  to-morrow  r" 

"  So  soon  ?"  It  was  uttered  hardly  with  a  tone  of  disap- 
pointment. 

The  marquise  alighted,  crying  hola  to  the  stables,  caressed 
hei  horse,  and  sent  him  off  with  a  smack  on  the  smoking 
flanks  to  meet  the  groom. 

"  To-morrow  ?  That  is  very  soon  ;  but  M.  Beauchamp  is 
engaged  in  an  Election,  and  what  have  we  to  induce  him  to 
stay  ?" 

"  Would  it  not  be  better  to  tell  M.  Beauchamp  why  he 
was  invited  to  come  ?"  rejoined  Madame  d'Auffray. 

The  sombre  light  in  Renee's  eyes  quickened  through 
shadowy  spheres  of  surprise  and  pain  to  resolution.  She 
cried,  "  You  have  my  full  consent,"  and  left  them. 

Madame  d'Auffi-ay  smiled  at  Beauchamp,  to  excuse  the 
childishness  of  the  little  story  she  was  about  to  relate ;  she 
gave  it  in  the  essence,  without  a  commencement  or  an  end- 
ing. She  had  in  fact  but  two  or  three  hurried  minutes 
before  the  breakfast-bell  would  ring ;  and  the  fan  she 
opened  and  shut,  and  at  times  shaded  her  head  Avith,  was 
nearly  as  explicit  as  her  tongue. 

He  understood  that  Renee  had  staked  her  glove  on  his 
coming  withiii  a  certain  number  of  hours  to  the  briefest 
wording  of  invitation  possible.  Owing  to  his  detention  by 
the  storm,  M.  d"Henriel  had  won  the  bet,  and  now  insisted 
on  wearing  the  glove.  "He  is  the  privileged  young  madman 
our  women  make  of  a  handsome  youth,"  said  Madame 
d'Auffray. 

Where  am  I  ?  thought  Beaucham23 — in  what  land,  he 
would  have  jDhrased  it,  of  whirlwinds  catching  the  wits, 
and  whipping  the  passions  ?  Calmer  than  they,  but  unable 
to  command  them,  and  guessing  that  Renee's  errand  of  the 
morning,  by  which  he  had  lost  hours  of  her,  pertained  to 
the  glove,  he  said  quiveringly,  "  Madame  la  marquise 
objects  ?" 

"  We,"  replied  Madame  d'Auffray,  "  contend  that  the 
^love   was   not   loyally  won.      The  wager   was  upon   yoar 


HIS  HOLIDAY.  207 

coming'  to  the  invitation,  not  upon  jour  conquering  the 
elements.  As  to  his  flaunting  the  glove  for  a  favour,  I 
would  ask  vou,  whom  does  he  advertize  by  that  ?  Gloves 
do  not  wear  white  ;  which  fact  compromises  none  but  the 
wearer.  He  picked  it  up  from  the  gTound,  and  does  not 
restore  it ;  that  is  all.  You  see  a  boy  who  catches  at  any- 
thing to  placard  himself.  There  is  a  compatriot  of  yours, 
a  ]M.  Ducie,  who  assured  us  you  must  be  with  an  uncle  in 
your  county  of  Sussex.  Of  course  we  ran  the  risk  of  the 
letter  missing  you,  but  the  chance  was  worth  a  glove.  Can 
you  believe  it,  M.  Beauchamp  ?  it  was  I,  old  woman  as  I 
am,  I  who  provoked  the  silly  wager.  I  have  long  desired 
to  meet  you ;  and  we  have  little  society  here,  we  are 
desperate  with  loneliness,  half  mad  with  our  whims.  I  said 
that,  if  you  were  what  I  had  heard  of  you,  you  would  come 
to  us  at  a  word.  They  dared  Madame  la  marquise  to  say 
the  same.  T  wished  to  see  the  friend  of  Frenchmen,  as  M. 
Roland  calls  you ;  not  merely  to  see  him — to  know  him, 
whether  he  is  this  perfect  friend  whose  absolute  devotion 
has  impressed  my  dear  sister  Renee's  mind.  She  respects 
you  :  that  is  a  sentiment  scarcely  complimentary  to  the 
ideas  of  young  men.  She  places  you  above  human  crea- 
tures:  possibly  you  may  not  dislike  to  be  worshipped.  It 
is  not  to  be  rejected  when  one's  influence  is  powerful  for 
good.     But  you  leave  us  to-morrow  I" 

"  I  might  stay "      Beauchamp  hesitated  to  name 

the  number  of  hours.  He  stood  divided  between  a  sense  of 
the  bubbling  shallowness  of  the  life  about^  him,  and  a 
thought,  grave  as  an  eye  dwelling  on  blood,  of  sinister 
things  below  it. 

"  I  may  stay  another  day  or  two,"  he  said,  "  if  I  can  be  of 
any  earthly  service." 

Madame  d'Aufl^ray  bowed  as  to  a  friendly  decision  on  his 
part,  saying,  "  It  would  be  a  thousand  pities  to  disappoint 
M.  Roland  ;  and  it  will  be  offering  my  brother  an  amicable 
chance.  I  will  send  him  word  that  you  await  him  ;  at  least, 
that  you  defer  your  departure  as  long  as  possible.  Ah  ! 
now  you  perceive,  M.  Beauchamp,  now  you  have  become 
aware  of  our  purely  infantile  plari  to  bring  yoii  over  to  us, 
how  very  ostensible  a  punishment  it  would  be  were  you  to 
remain  so  short  a  period." 

Having  no  designs,  he  was  neither  dupe  nor  sceptic  ;  but 


208  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

he  felt  oddly  entangled,  and  the  dream  of  his  holiday  had 
j3.ed  like  morning's  beams,  as  a  self-deception  will  at  a  very 
gentle  shaking. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  BOAT. 


Madame  d'Auffray  passed  Renee,  whispering  on  her  way 
to  take  her  seat  at  the  breakfast-table. 

Ren#e  did  not  condescend  to  whisper.  "  Roland  will  be 
glad,"  she  said  aloud. 

Her  low  eyelids  challenged  Beauchamp  for  a  look  of 
indifference.  There  was  more  for  her  to  nnbosom  than 
Madame  d'Auffray  had  revealed,  but  the  comparative  inno- 
cence  of  her  position  in  this  new  light  prompted  her  to 
meet  him  defiantly,  if  he  chose  to  feel  injured.  He  was 
attracted  by  a  happy  contrast  of  colour  between  her  dress 
and  complexion,  together  with  a  cavalierly  charm  in  the 
sullen  brows  she  lifted ;  and  seeing  the  reverse  of  a  look  of 
indifference  on  his  face,  after  what  he  had  heard  of  her 
frivolousness,  she  had  a  fear  that  it  existed. 

"  Are  we  not  to  have  M.  d'Henriel  to-day  ?  he  amuses 
me,"  the  baronne  d'Orbec  remarked. 

"  If  he  would  learn  that  he  was  fashioned  for  that  pur- 
pose ! "  exclaimed  little  M.  Livi^et. 

"  Do  not  ask  young  men  for  too  much  head,  my  friend  ; 
he  would  cease  to  be  amusing." 

"  D'Henriel  should  have  been  up  m  the  fields  at  ten  this 
morning,"  said  M.  d'Orbec.  "  As  to  his  head,  I  back  him 
for  a  clever  shot." 

"  Or  a  duelling-sword,"  said  Renee.  "  It  is  a  quality, 
count  it  for  w^hat  we  will.  Your  favourite,  Madame  la 
baronne,  is  interdicted  from  presenting  himself  here  so  long 
as  he  persists  in  offending  me." 

She  was  requested  to  explain,  and,  with  the  fair  ingenu- 
ousness which  outshines  innocence,  she  touched  on  the  story 
of  the  glove. 

Ah !  what  a  delicate,  what  an  exciting,  how  subtle  a 
question ! 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  BOAT.  209 

Had  M.  d'Henriel  the  right  to  possess  it  ?  and,  having 
that,  had  he  the  right  to  ^vear  it  at  his  breast  ? 

Beauchamp  was  dragged  into  the  discnssion  of  the  case. 

Renee  waited  curiously  for  his  judgement. 

Pleading  an  apology  for  the  stormy  weather,  which  had 
detained  him,  and  for  his  ignorance  that  so  precious  an 
article  was  at  stake,  he  held  that,  by  the  terras  of  the  wager, 
the  glove  was  lost ;  the  claim  to  wear  it  was  a  matter  of 
taste. 

"  Matters  of  taste,  monsieur,  are  not,  I  think,  decided  by 
weapons  in  your  country  ?  "  said  M.  d'Orbec. 

"  We  have  no  duelling,"  said  Beauchamp. 

The  Frenchman  imagined  the  confession  to  be  somew^hat 
humbling,  and  generously  added,  "  But  you  have  your 
volunteers — a  magnificent  spectacle  of  patriotism  and 
national  readiness  for  defence  I "' 

A  shrewd  pang  traversed  Beauchamp's  heart,  as  he  looked 
back  on  his  country  from  the  outside  and  the  inside,  think- 
ing what  amount  of  ]iatriotic  readiness  the  character  of  the 
volunteering  signified,  in  the  face  of  all  that  England  has 
to  maintain.  Like  a  politic  islander,  he  allowed  the 
patriotic  spectacle  to  be  imagined ;  reflecting  that  it  did  a 
sort  of  service  abroad,  and  had  only  to  be  unmasked  at 
home. 

"  But  you  surrendered  the  glove,  marquise ! "  The 
baronne  d'Orbec  spoke  judicially. 

"  I  flung  it  to  the  ground  :  that  made  it  neutral,"  said 
Renee. 

"  Hum.     He  wears  it  with  the  dust  on  it,  certainly." 

"  And  for  how  long  a  time,"  M.  Livret  wished  to  know, 
"  does  this  amusing  young  man  proclaim  his  intention  of 
wearing  the  glove  ?  " 

"  Until  he  can  see  with  us  that  his  Order  of  Merit  is  utter 
kid,"  said  Madame  d'Aufl:"ray  ;  and  as  she  had  spoken  more 
or  less  neatly,  satisfaction  was  left  residing  in  the  ear  of  the 
assembly,  and  the  glove  was  permitted  to  be  swept  away  on 
a  fresh  tide  of  dialogue. 

The  admirable  candour  of  Renee  in  publicly  alluding  to 
M.  d'Henriel's  foolishness  restored  a  peep  of  his  holiday  to 
Beauchamp.  Madame  d'Auifray  took  note  of  the  effect  it 
produced,  and  quite  excused  her  sister-in-law  for  intending 
to  produce  it ;  l3ut  that  speaking  out  the  half-truth  that  we 

P 


210  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

may  put  on  the  mask  of  the  wliole,  is  no  now  trick  ;  and 
believing  as  she  did  that  Renee  was  in  danger  with  the 
handsome  Count  Henri,  the  practice  of  such  a  kind  of 
honesty  on  her  part  appeared  alarming. 

Still  it  is  imprudent  to  press  for  confidences  when  our 
friend's  heart  is  manifestly  trifling  with  sincerity.  Who 
knows  but  that  some  foregone  reckless  act  or  word  may  have 
superinduced  the  healthy  shame  which  cannot  speak,  which 
must  disguise  itself,  and  is  honesty  in  that  form,  but 
roughly  troubled  would  resolve  to  rank  dishonesty  ?  So 
thought  the  patient  lady,  wiser  in  that  than  in  her  percep- 
tions. 

Renee  made  a  boast  of  not  persuading  her  guest  to  stay, 
avowing  that  she  w^ould  not  willingly  have  him  go.  Praising 
him  equably,  she  listened  to  praise  of  him  with  animation. 
She  was  dumb  and  statue-like  when  Count  Henri's  name 
was  mentioned.  Did  not  this  betray  liking  for  one,  subjec- 
tion to  the  other  ?  Indeed,  there  was  an  Asiatic  splendour 
of  animal  beauty  about  M.  d'Henriel  that  would  be  serpent 
with  most  women,  ]\ladame  d'AufPray  conceived  ;  why  not 
with  the  deserted  Renee,  who  adored  beauty  of  shape  and 
colour,  and  was  compassionate  toward  a  rashness  of  cha- 
racter that  her  own  unnatui-al  solitariness  and  quick  sjDirit 
made  her  emulous  of  ? 

Meanwhile  Bcauchnmp's  day  of  adieu  succeeded  that  of 
his  holiday,  and  no  adieu  was  uttered.  The  hours  at  Tour- 
destelle  had  a  singular  turn  for  slipping.  Interlinked  and 
all  as  one  they  swam  by,  brought  evening,  brought  morning, 
never  varied.  They  might  have  varied  with  such  a  division 
as  when  flame  lights  up  the  night  or  atemjDcst  shades  the  day, 
had  Renee  chosen  ;  she  had  that  power  over  him.  She  had  no 
wish  to  use  it ;  perhaps  she  apprehended  what  it  would  cause 
her  to  forfeit.  She  wdshed  him  to  respect  her;  felt  that  she  was 
under  the  shadow  of  the  glove,  slight  though  it  was  while  it 
was  nothing  but  a  tale  of  a  lady  and  a  glove ;  and  her  desire, 
like  his,  was  that  they  should  meet  daily  and  dream  on, 
without  a  variation.  He  noticed  how  seldom  she  led  him 
beyond  the  grounds  of  the  chateau.  They  were  to  make 
excursions  when  her  brother  came,  she  said.  Roland  de 
Croisnel's  colonel.  Com  de  Grandchamp,  happened  to  be 
engaged  in  a  duel,  which  great  business  detained  Roland. 
It  supplied  Beauchamp  with  an  excuse  for  staying,  that  he 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  BOAT.  211 

was  angry  with  himself  for  being  pleased  to  have;  so  he 
attacked  the  practicf^  of  duelling,  and  next  the  shrug,  Avhere- 
with  M.  Livret  and  M.  d'Orbec  sought  at  first  to  defend  the 
foul  custom,  or  apologize  for  it,  or  plead  for  it  philosophi- 
cally, or  altogether  cast  it  off  their  shoulders  ;  for  the  literal 
interpretation  of  the  shrug  in  argument  is  beyond  human 
capacity  ;  it  is  the  point  of  speech  beyond  o^r  treasury  of 
language.  He  attacked  the  shrug,  as  he  thought,  very  tem- 
perately ;  but  in  controlling  his  native  vehemence  he  grew, 
perforce  of  repression,  and  of  incompetency  t>)  deliver  him- 
self copiously  in  French,  sarcastic.  In  fine,  his  contrast  of 
the  pretence  of  their  noble  country  to  head  civilization, 
and  its  encouragement  of  a  custom  so  barbarous,  offended 
M.  d'Orbec  and  irritated  M.  Livret.  The  latter  delivered  a 
brief  essay  on  Gallic  blood ;  the  former  maintained  that 
Frenchmen  were  ^"he  best  judges  of  their  own  ways  and 
deeds.  Politeness  reigned,  but  politeness  is  compelled  to 
throw  off  cloak  and  jacket  when  it  steps  into  the  arena  to 
meet  the  encounter  of  a  bull.  Beauchamp  drew  on  their 
word  '  solidaire  '  to  assist  him  in  declaring  that  no  civilized 
nation  could  be  thus  independent.  Imagining  himself  in  the 
France  of  brave  ideas,  he  contrived  to  strike  out  sparks  of 
Legitimist  ire  around  him,  and  found  himself  breathing  the 
atmosphere  of  the  most  primitive  nursery  of  Toryism.  Again 
he  encountered  the  shrug,  and  he  would  have  it  a  verbal 
matter.  M.  d'Orbec  gravely  recited  the  progTamme  of  the 
country  party  in  France.  M.  Livret  carried  tlie  war  across 
Channel.  You  English  have  retired  from  active  life,  like 
the  exhausted  author,  to  turn  critic — the  critic  that  sneers ; 
unless  we  copy  you  abjectly  we  are  execrable.  And  what  is 
that  sneer  ?  Materially  it  is  an  acrid  saliva,  withering 
where  it  drops;  in  the  way  of  fellowship  it  is  a  corpse- 
emanation.  As  to  wit,  the  sneer  is  the  cloak  of  clumsiness  ; 
it  is  the  Pharisee's  incense,  the  hypocrite's  pity,  the  post  of 
exaltation  of  the  fat  citizen,  &c. ;  but,  said  M.  Livret,  the 
people  using  it  should  have  a  care  that  they  keep  powerful : 
they  make  no  friends.  He  terminated  with  this  warning  to 
a  nation  not  devoid  of  superior  merit.  M.  d'Orbec  said  less, 
and  was  less  consoled  by  his  outburst. 

In  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Vivian  Ducie,  present  at  the  discus- 
sion, Beauchamp  provoked  the  lash  ;  for,  in  the  first  place, 
a  beautiful  woman's  apparent  favourite  should  be  partica* 

p2 


212  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

larly  discreet  in  all  that,  he  says :  and  next,  he  should  have 
known  that  the  Gallic  shrug  over  matters  political  is  vol- 
canic— it  is  the  heaving  of  the  mountain,  and,  like  the  pro- 
verbial Russ,  leaps  up  Tartarly  at  a  scratch.  Our  news- 
papers also  had  been  flea-biting  M.  Livret  and  his  country- 
men of  late ;  and,  to  conclude,  over  in  old  England  you  may 
fly  out  against  what  you  will,  and  there  is  little  beyond  a 
motherly  smile,  a  nurse's  rebuke,  or  a  fool's  rudeness  to 
answer  you.  In  quick-blooded  France  you  have  whip  for 
whip,  sneer,  sarcasm,  claw,  fang,  tussle,  in  a  trice  ;  and  if 
you  choose  to  comport  yourself  according  to  your  insular 
notion  of  freedom,  you  are  bound  to  mai'ch  out  to  the  mea- 
sured ground  at  an  invitation.  To  begin  by  saying  that  your 
principles  are  opposed  to  it,  naturally  excites  a  malicious 
propensity  to  try  your  temper. 

A  further  cause,  unknown  to  Mr.  Ducie,  of  M.  Livret's 
irritation  was,  that  Beauchamp  had  vexed  him  on  a  subject 
peculiarly  dear  to  him.  The  celebrated  Chateau  Dianet  was 
about  to  be  visited  by  the  guests  at  Tourdestelle.  In  com- 
mon with  some  French  philosophers  and  English  matrons, 
he  cherished  a  sentimental  sad  enthusiasm  for  royal  concu- 
bines ;  and  when  dilating  upon  one  among  them,  the  ruins 
o?  whose  family's  castle  stood  in  the  neighbourhood — Agnes, 
who  Avas  really  a  kindly  soul,  though  not  virtuous — M. 
Livret  had  been  traversed  by  Beauchamp  with  questions  as 
to  the  condition  of  the  ])eople,  the  peasantry,  that  were 
sweated  in  taxes  to  support  these  lovely  frailties.  They 
came  oddly  from  a  man  in  the  fire  of  youth,  and  a  little  old 
gentleman  somewhat  seduced  by  the  melting  image  of  his 
theme  migh^  well  blink  at  him  to  ask,  of  what  flesh  are  you, 
then  ?  His  historic  harem  was  insulted.  Personally  too, 
the  fair  creature  picturesquely  soiled,  intrepid  in  her  amor- 
ousaess,  and  ultimately  absolved  by  repentance  (a  shudder- 
ing narrative  of  her  sins  under  showers  of  salt  drops),  cried 
to  him  to  champion  her.  Excited  by  the  supposed  cold 
critical  mind  in  Beauchamp,  M.  Livret  painted  and  painted 
•his  lady,  tricked  her  in  casuistical  niceties,  scenes  of  pomp 
and  boudoir  pathos,  with  many  shifting  sidelights  and  a 
risky  word  or  two,  until  Renee  cried  out,  "  Spare  us  the 
esprit  Gaulois,  M  Livret  I"  There  was  much  to  make  him 
angry  with  this  Englishman. 

"  The  csi^rit  Gaulois  is  the  sparkle  of  crystal  common  sense, 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  BOAT.  213 

madame,  and  may  we  never  abandon  it  for  a  Puritanism  that 
hides  its  face  to  conceal  its  filthiness,  like  a  stagnant  pond," 
replied  M.  Livi'et  flashing. 

"  It  seems,  then,  that  there  are  two  ways  of  being  objec- 
tionable," said  Renee. 

"  Ah !  Madame  la  marquise,  your  wit  is  French,"  he 
breathed  low  ;  "  keep  your  heart  so  !" 

Both  M.  Livret  and  M.  d'Orbec  had  forgotten  that  when 
Count  Henri  d'Henriel  was  received  at  Tourdestelle,  the 
arrival  of  the  Englishman  was  pleasantly  anticipated  by 
them  as  an  eclipse  of  the  handsome  boy  ;  but  a  foreign  inter- 
loper is  quickly  dispossessed  of  all  means  of  pleasing  save 
that  one  of  taking  his  departure  ;  and  they  now  talked  of 
Count  Henri's  disgi'ace  and  banishment  in  a  very  waim  spirit 
of  sympathy,  not  at  all  seeing  why  it  should  be  made  to 
depend  upon  the  movements  of  this  M.  Beauchamp,  as  it 
appeared  to  be.  Madame  d'Auffray  heard  some  of  their 
dialogue,  and  hurried  with  a  mouth  full  of  comedy  to  Renee, 
who  did  not  reproach  them  for  silly  beings,  as  would  be 
done  elsewhere.  On  the  contrary,  she  appreciated  a  scene 
of  such  absolute  comedy,  recognizing  it  instantly  as  a  situa- 
tion plucked  out  of  human  nature.  She  compared  them  to 
republicans  that  regretted  the  sovereign  they  had  deposed 
for  a  pretender  to  start  up  and  govern  them. 

"  Who  hurries  them  round  to  the  legitimate  king  again  !'* 
said  Madame  d'Auffray. 

Renee  cast  her  chin  up.     "  How,  my  dear  ?** 

"Your  husband." 

"What  of  him?" 

"  He  is  returning." 

"What  brings  him?" 

"  You  should  ask  who,  my  Renee  !  I  was  sure  he  would 
not  hear  of  M.  Beauchamp's  being  here,  without  an  effort  to 
return  and  do  the  honours  of  the  chateau." 

Renee  looked  hard  at  her,  saying,  ''  How  thoughtful  of 
you  !  You  must  have  made  use  of  the  telegraph  w^res  to 
inform  him  that  M.  Beauchamp  was  with  us." 

"  More  ;  I  made  use  of  them  to  inform  him  that  M.  Beau-^ 
champ  was  expected." 

"  And  that  was  enough  to  bring  him  !  He  pays  M.  Beau- 
champ a  wonderful  compliment." 

"  Such  as  he  would  pay  to  no  other  man,  my  Renee.     Vir- 


214  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

tnally  it  is  tlie  highest  of  compliments  to  yon.  T  say  that 
to  M.  Beaucham])'s  credit ;  for  Raoul  has  met  him,  and,  what- 
ever his  personal  feeling  may  be,  must  know  your  friend  is  a 
man  of  honour," 

"  My  friend  is  .  .  .  yes,  I  have  no  reason  to  think  other- 
wise," Kenee  replied.  Her  husband's  persistent  and  exclu- 
siT3  jealousy  of  Beauchamp  was  the  singular  point  in  the 
character  of  one  who  appeared  to  have  no  sentiment  of  the 
kind  as  regarded  men  that  were  much  less  than  men  of 
honour.  "  So,  then,  my  sister  Agnes,"  she  said,  "  you  sug- 
gested the  invitation  of  M.  Beauchamp  for  the  purpose  of 
spurring  my  husband  to  return  !  Apparently  he  and  I  are 
surrounded  by  plotters." 

"Am  I  so  very  guilty  ?"  said  Madame  d'Auffray. 

"  If  that  mad  boy,  half  idiot,  half  panther,  were  by  chance 
to  insult  M.  Beauchamp,  you  would  feel  so." 

"  You  have  taken  precautions  to  prevent  their  meeting; 
and  besides,  M.  Beauchamp  does  not  fight." 

Reiiee  flushed  crimson. 

Madame  d'AulTray  added,  "  I  do  not  say  that  he  is  other 
than  a  perfectly  brave  and  chivalrous  gentleman." 

'.'  Oh  !"  cried  Renee,  "  do  not  say  it,  if  ever  you  should 
imagine  it.  Bid  Roland  speak  of  him.  He  is  changed, 
oppressed  :  I  did  him  a  terrible  wrong.  .  ."  She  checked 
herself.  "  But  the  chief  thing  to  do  is  to  keep  M.  d'Henriel 
away  from  him.  I  suspect  M.  d'Orbec  of  a  design  to  make 
them  clash :  and  you,  my  dear,  will  explain  why,  to  flatter 
me.  Believe  me,  I  thirst  for  flattery  ;  I  have  had  none  since 
M.  Beauchamp  came :  and  you,  so  acute,  must  have  seen  the 
want  of  it  in  my  face.  But  you,  so  skilful,  Agnes,  will 
manage  these  men.  Do  you  know,  Agnes,  that  the  pride  of 
a  woman  so  incredibly  clever  as  you  have  shown  me  you 
are  should  resent  their  intrigues  and  overthrow  them.  As 
for  me,  I  thought  I  could  command  M.  d'Henriel,  and  1 
find  he  has  neither  reason  in  him  nor  obedience.  Singular 
to  say,  I  knew  him  just  as  well  a  week  back  as  I  do  now, 
and  then  I  liked  him  for  his  qualities — or  the  absence  of  any. 
But  how  shall  we  avoid  him  on  the  road  to  Dianet  ?  He  is 
aware  that  we  are  going." 

"  Take  M.  Beauchamp  by  boat,"  said  Madame  d'Auffray. 
"  The  river  winds  to  within  a  five  minutes'  walk  of  Dianet  ; 
we  could  go  by  boat,"  Renee  said  musingly.     "  I  thought  of 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EOAT.  215 

tlie  boat.  But  does  it  not  give  the  man  a  triamph  that  we 
should  seem  to  try  to  elude  him?  What  matter!  Still,  I 
do  not  like  him  to  be  the  falcon,  and  I^evil  Beauchamp  the 
.  .  .  little  bird.     So  it  is,  because  we  began  badly,  Agnes  !" 

"  Was  it  my  fault  P" 

*'  Mine.     Tell  me  :  the  legitimate  king  returns — when  ?" 

"  In  two  days  or  three." 

"  And  his  rebel  subjects  are  to  address  him — how  ?" 

Madame  d'Auifray  smote  the  point  of  a  finger  softly  on 
her  cheek. 

"  Will  they  be  pardoned  ?"  said  Renee. 

"  It  is  for  }iiif)i  to  kneel,  my  dearest." 

*'  Legitimacy  kneeling  for  Torgiveness  is  a  painful  picture, 
Agnes.  Legitimacy  jealous  of  a  foreigneryis  an  odd  one. 
However,  we  are  women,  born  to  our  lot.  If  we  could  rise 
en  masse  ! — but  we  cannot.     Embrace  me." 

Madame  d'Auffray  embraced  her,  without  an  idea  that 
she  assisted  in  performing  the  farewell  of  their  confidential 
intimacy. 

When  Renee  trifled  with  Count  Henri,  it  was  playing 
with  fire,  and  she  knew  it ;  and  once  or  twice  she  bemoaned 
to  Agnes  d'Auifray  her  abandoned  state,  which  condemned 
her,  for  the  sake  of  the  sensation  of  living,  to  have  recourse 
to  perilous  pastimes  ;  but  she  was  revolted,  as  at  a  piece  of 
treachery,  that  Agnes  should  have  suggested  the  invitation 
of  I^evil  Beauchamp  with  the  secret  design  of  winning  home 
her  husband  to  protect  her.  This,  for  one  reason,  was 
because  Beauchamp  gave  her  no  notion  of  danger ;  none, 
therefore,  of  requiring  protection  ;  and  the  presence  of  her 
husband  could  not  but  be  hateful  to  him,  an  undeserved 
infliction.  To  her  it  was  intolerable  that  they  should  be 
brought  into  contact.  It  seemed  almost  as  hard  that  she 
sliould  have  to  dismiss  Beauchamp  to  preclude  their  meeting. 
S'le  remembered,  nevertheless,  a  certain  desperation  of  mind, 
scarce  imaginable  in  the  retrospect,  by  which,  trembling, 
ferer-smitten,  scorning  herself,  she  had  been  reduced  to  hope 
for  JSTevil  Beauchamp's  coming  as  for  a  rescue.  The  night 
of  the  storm  had  roused  her  heart.  Since  then  his  perfect 
friendliness  had  lulled,  his  air  of  thoughtfulness  had  inte- 
rested it ;  and  the  fancy  that  he,  who  neither  reproached 
nor  sentimentalized,  was  to  be  infinitely  compassionated, 
stirred  up  remorse.       She   could  not  tell  her  friend  Agnes 

^   V*  OF  THE  ''^    \s 

1^  UNIVERSITY  J 


2  1  6  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

of  these  feelings  while  her  feelings  were  angered  against  her 
friend.  So  she  talked  lightly  of  '  the  legitimate  king,'  and 
they  embraced  :  a  situation  of  comedy  qnite  as  trne  as  that 
presented  by  the  humble  admirers  of  the  brilliant  chatelaine. 
Beanchamp  had  the  pleasure  of  rowing  Madame  la  mar- 
quise to  the  short  shaded  walk  separating  the  river  from 
Chateau  Dianet,  whither  M.  d'Orbec  went  on  horseback,  and 
Madame  d'Aulf  ray  and  M.  Livret  were  driven.  The  portrait 
of  Diane  of  Dianet  was  praised  for  the  beaut}^  of  the  dame, 
a  soft-fleshed  acutely  featured  person,  a  fresh-of-the-toilette 
lase,  of  the  configuration  of  head  of  the  cat,  relieved  by  a 
delicately  aquiline  nose ;  and  it  could  only  be  the  cat  of  fairy 
metamorphosis  which  should  stand  for  that  illustration : 
brows  and  chin  made  an  acceptable  triangle,  aiid  eyes  and 
mouth  could  be  what  she  pleased  for  mice  or  monarchs. 
M.  Livret  did  not  gainsay  the  impeachment  of  her  by  a  great 
French  historian,  tender  to  women,  to  frailties  in  particular 
— yes,  she  was  cold,  perhaps  grasping :  but  dwell  upon  her 
in  her  character  of  woman ;  conceive  lier  existing,  to  esti- 
mate the  chai'm  of  her  graciousness.  Name  the  two  countries 
which  alone  have  produced  the  woman,  the  ideal  woman,  the 
woman  of  art,  whose  beauty,  grace,  and  wit  oifer  her  to  our 
cojitemplation  in  an  atmosphere  above  the  ordinary  conditions 
of  the  world  :  these  two  countries  are  France  and  Greece ! 
None  other  give  you  the  perfect  woman,  the  woman  who 
conquers  time,  as  she  conquers  men,  by  virtue  of  the  divinity 
in  her  blood  ;  and  she,  as  little  as  illustrious  heroes,  is  to  be 
judged  by  the  laws  and  standards  of  lesser  creatures.  In 
fashioning  her,  nature  and  art  have  worked  together :  in  her, 
poetry  walks  the  earth.  The  question  of  good  or  bad  is 
entirely  to  be  put  aside  :  it  is  a  rustic's  impertinence — a 
bourgeois'  vulgarity.  She  is  pre-eminent,  voila  tout.  Has 
she  grace  and  beauty  ?  Then  you  are  answered  :  such  pos- 
sessions are  an  assurance  that  her  influence  in  the  aggregate 
must  be  for  good.  Thunder,  destructive  to  insects,  refreshes 
earth  :  so  she.  So  sang  the  rhapsodist.  Possibly  a  scholarly 
little  French  gentleman,  going  down  the  grey  slopes  of  sixty 
to  second  childishness,  recovers  a  second  juvenility  in  these 
enthusiasms ;  though  what  it  is  that  inspires  our  matrons  to 
take  up  with  them  is  unimaginable.  M.  Livret's  ardour  was 
a  contrast  to  the  young  Englishman's  vacant  gaze  at  Diane, 
and  the  symbols  of  her  goddesship  rimning  along  the  walls, 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  BOAT.  217 

the  bed,  the  cabinets,  everywhere  that  ihe    chaste    device 
could  find  frontage  and  a  cornei-. 

M.  d'Orbec  remained  outside  the  chateau  inspecting  the 
fish-ponds.  When  they  rejoined  him  he  complimentCLl 
Beauchamp  semi-ironically  on  his  choice  of  the  river's  quiet 
charms  in  preference  to  the  dusty  roads.  Madame  de 
Rouaillout  said,  "  Come,  M.  d'Orbec  ;  what  if  you  surrender 
your  horse  to  M.  Beauchamp,  and  row  me  back  ?"  He 
changed  colour,  hesitated,  and  declined  :  he  had  an  engage- 
ment to  call  on  M.  d'Henriel. 

"  When  did  you  see  him  ?"  said  she. 

He  was  confused.     ""  It  is  not  long  since,  madame." 

"  On  the  road  r" 

"  Coming  along  the  road." 

"  And  our  glove  P" 

"  Madame  la  marquise,  if  I  may  trust  my  memory,  M. 
d'Henriel  was  not  in  ofiicial  costume." 

Renee  allow'ed  herself  to  be  reassured. 

A  ceremonious  visit  that  M.  Livret  insisted  on  was  paid 
to  the  chapel  of  Diane,  where  she  had  worshipped  and  laid 
her  widowed  ashes,  which,  said  M.  Livret,  the  fiends  of  the 
Revolution  woukl  not  let  rest. 

He  raised  his  voice  to  denounce  them. 

It  was  Roland  de  Croisnel  that  answered  :  "  The  Revolii. 
tion  was  our  grandmother,  monsieur,  and  I  cannot  hear  hei 
abused." 

Renee  caught  her  brother  by  the  hand.  He  stepped  out 
of  the  chapel  with  Beauchamp  to  embrace  him ;  then  kissed 
Renee,  and,  i-emarking  that  she  was  pale,  fetched  flooding 
colour  to  her  cheeks.  He  was  hearty  air  to  them  after  the 
sentimentalism  they  had  been  hearing.  Beauchamp  and  he 
walked  like  loving  comrades  at  school,  questioning,  answer- 
ing, chattering,  laughing, — a  beautiful  sight  to  Renee,  and 
she  looked  at  Agi.es  d'Aulfray  to  ask  her  whether  'this 
Englishman  '  was  not  one  of  them  in  his  frankness  and 
freshness. 

Roland  stopped  to  turn  to  Renee.  "  I  met  D'Henriel  on 
my  ride  here,"  he  said  with  a  sharp  inquisitive  exTpression 
of  eye  that  passed  immediately. 

"  You  rode  hei-e  from  Tourdestelle,  then,"  said  Renee. 

"  Has  he  been  one  of  the  company,  marquise  ?" 

"  Did  he  ride  by  you  without  speaking,  Roland  ?" 


218  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  Thus."  Roland  described  a  Spanish  caballero's  for- 
mallest  salutation,  saying  to  Beauchamp,  "  ]S"ot  tlie  best 
sample  of  our  young  Frencliman ; — woman-spoiled !  Not 
that  the  better  kind  of  article  need  be  spoiled  by  them — 
heaven  forbid  that!  Friend  Xevil,"  he  spoke  lower,  "do 
you  know,  you  have  something  of  the  prophet  in  you  F  I 
remember  :  much  has  come  true.  An  old  spoiler  of  women 
is  worse  than  one  spoiled  by  them  !  Ah,  well :  and  Madame 
Culling  ?  and  your  seven-feet  high  uncle  ?  And  have  you  a 
fleet  to  satisfy  ]S''evil  Beauchamp  yet  ?  You  shall  see  a  trial 
of  our  new  field-guns  at  Rouen." 

They  were  separated  with  difficulty.  Renee  wished  her 
brother  to  come  in  the  boat ;  and  he  would  have  done  so, 
but  for  his  objection  to  have  his  Arab  bestridden  by  a  man 
unknown  to  him. 

"  My  love  is  a  four-foot,  and  here's  ray  love,"  Roland  said, 
going  outside  the  gilt  gate-rails  to  the  graceful  little  beast 
that  acknowledged  his  ownership  witli  an  arch  and  swing  of 
the  neck  round  to  him. 

He  mounted  and  called,  "  Au  revoir,  M.  le  capitaine." 

"  Au  revoir,  M.  le  commandant,"  cried  Beauchamp. 

"  Admiral  and  marshal,  each  of  us  in  good  season,"  said 
Roland.  "  Thanks  to  your  promotion,  I  had  a  letter  from 
my  sister.     Advance  a  grade,  and  I  may  get  another." 

Beauchamp  thought  of  the  sti-ange  gulf  now  between  him 
and  the  time  when  he  pined  to  be  a  commodore,  and  an 
admiral.  The  gulf  was  bridged  as  he  looked  at  Renee 
petting  Roland's  horse. 

"  Is  there  in  the  world  so  lovely  a  creature?"  she  said, 
and  appealed  fondlingly  to  the  beauty  that  brings  out  beauty, 
and,  bidding  it  disdain  rivalry,  i-ivalled  it  insomuch  that  in 
a  moment  of  trance  Beauchamp  with  his  bodily  vision 
beheld  her,  not  there,  but  on  the  Lido  of  Venice,  shining  out 
of  the  years  gone. 

^  Old  love  reviving  may  be  love  of  a  phantom  after  all.  We 
can,  if  it  must  revive,  keep  it  to  the  limits  of  a  ghostly  love. 
The  ship  in  the  Arabian  tale  coming  within  the  zone  of  th 
magnetic  mountain,  flies  all  its  bolts  aud  bars,  and  become 
sheer  timbers,  but  that  is  the  carelessness  of  the  ship's  cap 
tain ;  and  hitherto  Beauchamp  could  applaud  himself  for 
steering  with  prudence,  while  Renee's  attractions  warned 
more  than  thev  beckoned.     She  was  magnetic  to  him  as  no 


THE  ADVENTURE  OP  THE  BOAT.  219 

other  woman  w^is.  Then  wliither  his  course  bat  home- 
ward ? 

After  they  had  taken  Iciive  of  their  host  and  hostess  of 
Chateau  Dianct,  walking  across  a  meadow  to  a  line  of  char- 
milles  that  led  to  the  river-side,  he  said,  "  Xow  I  have  seen 
Roland  I  shall  have  to  decide  upon  going." 

"  Wantonly  won  is  deservedly  lost,"  said  Renee.  "  But 
do  not  disappoint  my  Roland  much  because  of  his  foolish 
sister.  Is  he  not  looking  handsome  ?  And  he  is  young  to 
be  a  commandant,  for  we  have  no  interest  at  this  Court. 
They  kept  him  out  of  the  last  war !  My  father  expects  to 
find  you  at  Tourdestelle,  and  how  account  to  him  for  your 
hurried  flight  ? — save  with  the  story  of  that  w^hich  brought 
you  to  us  !" 

"  The  glove  ?  I  shall  beg  for  the  fellow  to  it  before  I 
depart,  marquise." 

"  You  perceived  my  disposition  to  light-headedness,  mon- 
sieur, when  I  was  a  girl." 

"  I  said  that  I bat  the  past  is  dust.     Shall  I  ever  see 

you  in  England  ?" 

"  That  country  seems  to  frown  on  me.  But  if  I  do  not  go 
there,  nor  you  come  here,  except  to  impeiaous  mysterious 
invitations,  which  will  not  be  repeated,  the  future  is  dust  as 
well  as  the  past :  for  me,  at  least.  Dust  here,  dust  there  ! — 
if  one  could  be  like  a  silk- worm,  and  live  lying  on  the  leaf 
one  feeds  on,  it  would  be  a  sort  of  answer  to  the  riddle — 
living  out  of  the  dust,  and  in  the  present.  I  find  none  in 
my  religion.  a!\o  doubt,  Madame  cle  Brcze  did :  why  did 
you  call  Diane  so  to  M.  Livret  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  smiling  as  they  came  out  of  the  shadow 
of  the  clipped  trees.     He  was  glancing  about  for  the  boat. 

"  The  boat  is  across  the  river,"  Renee  said,  in  a  voice  that 
made  him  seek  her  eyes  for  an  explanation  of  the  dead  sound. 
She  w^as  very  pale.  "  You  have  perfect  command  of  yourself  ? 
For  my  sake  !"  she  said. 

He  looked  round. 

Standing  up  in  the  boat,  against  tbe  opposite  bank,  and 
leaning  with  crossed  legs  on  one  of  the  sculls  planted  in  the 
gravel  of  the  river.  Count  Henri  d'Henriel's  handsome  figure 
presented  itself  to  Beauchamp's  gaze. 

With  a  dryness  that  smacked  of  his  uncle  Everard  Rom- 


220  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

frey,  Beaucliamp  said  of  tlie  fantastical  posture  of  the  young 
man,  "  One  can  do  that  on  fresh  water." 

Renee  did  not  comprehend  the  sailor-sarcasm  of  the 
remark;  but  she  also  commented  on  the  statuesque  appear- 
ance of  Count  Henri:  "Is  the  pose  for  photography  or  for 
sculpture  ?" 

Neither  of  them  showed  a  sign  of  surprise  or  of  impa- 
tience. 

M.  d'Henriel  could  not  maintain  the  attitude.  He  un- 
crossed his  legs  deliberately,  drooped  hat  in  hand,  and  came 
paddling  over ;  ai^ologized  indolently,  and  said,  "  I  am  not, 
[  believe,  trespassing  on  the  grounds  of  Tourdestelle,  Ma- 


ise 


1 '" 


dame  la  marqu 

"  You  happen  to  be  in  my  boat,  M.  le  comte,"  said  Renee. 

"  Permit  me,  madame."  He  had  set  one  foot  on  shore, 
with  his  back  to  Beauchamp,  and  reached  a  hand  to  assist 
her  step  into  the  boat. 

]3eauchamp  caught  fast  hold  of  the  bows  while  Renee  laid 
a  finger  on  Count  lEenri's  shoulder  to  steady  herself. 

The  instant  she  had  taken  her  seat.  Count  Henri  dashed 
the  scull's  blade  at  the  bank  to  push  off  with  her,  but  the 
boat  was  fast.  His  manceuvre  had  been  foreseen.  Beau- 
champ  swung  on  board  like  the  last  seaman  of  a  launch,  and 
crouched  as  the  boat  rocked  away  to  the  stream  ;  and  still 
Count  Henri  leaned  on  the  scull,  not  in  a  chosen  attitude, 
but  for  positive  support.  He  had  thrown  his  force  into  the 
blow,  to  push  off  triumphantly,  and  leave  his  rival  standing. 
It  occurred  that  the  boat's  brief  resistance  and  i-ocking  away 
agitated  his  artificial  equipoise,  and,  by  the  operation  of  in- 
exorable laws,  the  longer  he  leaned  across  an  extending  sur- 
face the  more  was  he  dependent ;  so  that  when  the  measure 
of  the  water  exceeded  the  length  of  his  failing  support  on 
land,  there  was  no  help  for  it :  he  pitched  in.  His  grimac.'e 
of  chagrin  at  the  sight  of  Beauchamp  securely  established, 
had  scarcely  yielded  to  the  grimness  of  feature  of  the  man 
who  feels  he  must  go,  as  he  took  the  plunge  ;  and  these  two 
emotions  combined  to  make  an  extraordinary  countenance. 

He  went  like  a  ^-allant  gentleman  ;  he  threw  up  his  heels 
to  clear  the  boat,  dropping  into  about  four  feet  of  water, 
and  his  first  remark  on  rising  was,  "  I  trust,  madame,  I  have 
not  had  the  misfortune  to  splash  you." 

Then  he  waded  to  the  bank,  scrambled  to  Lis  feet,  and 


THE  ADVENTUEE  OP  THE  BOAT.  221 

drew  ont  his  moustacliios  to  their  curving  ends.  Renee 
nodded  sharply  to  Beauchamp  to  bid  him  row.  He,  with 
less  of  wisdom,  having  seized  the  floating  scull  abandoned 
by  Count  Henri,  and  got  it  ready  for  the  stroke,  said  a  word 
of  condolence  to  the  dripping  man. 

Count  Henri's  shoulders  and  neck  expressed  a  kind  of 
negative  that,  like  a  wet  dog's  shake  of  the  head,  ended  in 
an  involuntary  whole-length  shudder,  dog-like  and  deplor- 
able to  behold.  He  must  have  been  conscious  of  this  m.iser- 
able  exhibition  of  himself  ;  he  turned  to  Beauchamp  :  "You 
are,  I  am  informed,  a  sailor,  monsieur.  I  compliment  you 
on  your  naval  tactics  :  our  next  meeting  will  be  on  land. 
Au  revoir,  monsieur.  Madame  la  marquise,  I  have  the 
honour  to  salute  you." 

With  the.^e  words  he  retreated. 

"  Row  quickly,  I  beg  of  you,"  Renee  said  to  Beauchamp. 
Her  desire  was  to  see  Roland,  and  open  her  heart  to  her 
brother;  for  now  it  had  to  be  opened.  ISTot  a  minute  must 
be  lost  to  prevent  further  mischief.  And  who  was  guilty  ? 
she.  Her  heart  clamoured  of  her  guilt  to  waken  a  cry  of 
innocence.  A  disdainful  pity  for  the  superb  young  savage 
just  made  ludicrous,  relieved  him  of  blame,  implacable 
though  he  was.  He  was  nothing ;  an  accident — a  fool.  But 
he  miuht  become  a  terrible  instrument  of  punishment.  The 
thought  of  that  possibility  gave  it  an  aspect  of  retribu- 
tion, under  which  her  cry  of  innocence  was  insufferable  in 
its  feebleness.  It  would  have  been  different  with  her  if 
Beauchamp  had  taken  advantage  of  her  fever  of  anxiety, 
suddenly  appeased  by  the  sight  of  him  on  the  evening  of  his 
arrival  at  Tourdestelle  after  tne  storm,  to  attempt  a  renewal 
of  their  old  broken  love-bonds.  Then  she  would  have  seen 
only  a  conflict  between  two  men,  neither  of  whom  could 
claim  a  more  secret  right  than  the  other  to  be  called  her 
lover,  and  of  whom  both  were  on  a  common  footing,  and 
partly  despicable.  But  N'evil  Beauchamp  had  behaved  as 
her  perfect  true  friend,  in  the  character  she  had  hoped  for 
when  she  summoned  him.  The  sense  of  her  guilt  lay  in  the 
recognition  that  he  had  saved  her.  From  what  ?  From  the 
consequences  of  delirium  rather  than  from  love :  surely 
delirium,  founded  on  delusion;  love  had  not  existed.  She 
had  said  to  Count  Henri,  "  You  speak  to  me  of  love.  I  was 
beloved   when  I  was  a  girl,  before  my  marriage,  and  for 


222  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

years  I  have  not  seen  or  corresponded  with  the  man  who 
loved  me,  and  I  have  only  to  lift  my  fin^'er  now  and  he  will 
come  to  me,  and  not  once  will  he  speak  to  me  of  love." 
Those  were  the  words  originating  the  wager  of  the  glove. 
Bnt  what  of  her,  if  Nevil  Beanchamp  had  not  come  ? 

Her  heart  jnmped,  and  she  blushed  ungovernably  in  his 
face,  as  if  he  were  seeing*  her  withdraw  her  foot  from  the= 
rock's  edge,  and  had  tl  ,.t  instant  rescued  her.  But  how 
came  it  she  had  been  so  helpless  ?  She  could  ask  ;  she 
could  not  answer. 

Thinking,  talking  to  her  heart,  was  useless.  The  deceiver 
simply  feigned  utter  condemnation  to  make  partial  comfort 
acceptable.  She  burned  to  do  some  act— of  extreme  self- 
abasement  that  should  bring  an  unwonted  degree  of  wrath 
on  her  externally,  and  so  re-entitle  her  to  consideration  in 
her  own  eyes.  She  burned  to  be  interrogated,  to  have  to 
weep,  to  be  scorned,  abused,  and  forgiven,  that  she  might 
say  she  did  not  deserve  pardon.  Beauchamp  was  too 
English,  evidently  too  blind,  for  the  description  of  judge- 
accuser  she  required  ;  one  who  would  worry  her  without 
mercy,  until — disgraced  by  the  excess  of  torture  inflicted — 
he  should  re-instate  her  by  as  much  as  he  had  overcharged 
his  accusation,  and  a  little  more.  Reasonably  enough, 
instinctively  in  fact,  she  shunned  the  hollow  of  an  English 
ear.     A  surprise  was  in  reserve  for  her. 

Beauchamp  gave  up  rowing.  As  he  rested  on  the  sculls, 
his  head  was  bent  and  turned  toward  the  bank.  Renee  per- 
ceived an  over-swollen  monster  gourd  that  had  strayed  from 
a  garden  adjoining  the  river,  and  hung  sliding  heavily  down 
the  bank  on  one  greenish  yellow  cheek,  in  prolonged  con- 
templation of  its  image  in  the  mirror  below.  Apparently 
this  obese  iSTarcissus  enchained  his  attention. 

She  tapped  her  foot.  '*  Are  you  tired  of  rowing, 
monsieur  ?  " 

"  It  was  exactly  here,"  said  he,  "  that  you  told  me  you 
expected  your  husband's  return." 

She  glanced  at  the  gourd,  bit  her  lip,  and,  colouring,  said, 
"  At  w  hat  point  of  the  river  did  I  request  you  to  congratu- 
late me  on  it  ?  " 

She  would  not  have  said  that,  if  she  had  known  the 
thoughts  at  work  within  him. 

He  set  the  boat  swaying  from  side  to  side,  and  at  once  the 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  BOAT.  223 

hngcoiTS  reflection  of  that  conceiYably  self-enamoured  bulk 
quavered  and  distended,  and  was  shattered  in  a  thousand 
dancing  fragments,  to  re-unite  and  recompose  its  maudlin 
air  of  imaged  satisfaction. 

She  began  to  have  a  vague  idea  that  he  was  indulging 
gi'otesque  fancies. 

Very  strangely,  the  ridiculous  thing,  in  the  shape  of  an 
over-stretched  likeness,  that  she  never  would  have  seen  had. 
he  indicated  it  directly,  became  transfused  from  his  mind  to; 
hers  by  his  abstract  half-amused  observation  of  the  great ; 
dancing  gourd — that  capering  antiquity,  lumbering  vola- 
tility, wandering,  self-adored,  gross  bald  Cupid,  elatest  of 
nondescripts  !  Her  senses  imagined  the  impressions  agi- 
tating Beauchamp's,  and  exaggerated  them  beyond  limit ; 
and  when  he  amazed  her  with  a  straight  look  into  her  eyes, 
and  the  words,  "  Better  let  it  be  a  youth — and  live,  than 
fall  back  to  that  !"  she  understood  him  immediately  ;  and, 
together  with  her  old  fear  of  his  impctnosity  and  downright- 
ness,  came  the  vivid  recollection,  like  a  bright  finger  point- 
ing upon  darkness,  of  what  foul  destiny,  magnified  by  her 
present  abhorrence  of  it,  he  would  have  saved  her  from  in 
the  days  of  Venice  and  Touraine,  and  unto  what  loathly 
example  of  the  hitleous  grotesque  she,  in  spite  of  her  lover's 
foresight  on  her  behalf,  had  become  allied. 

Face  to  face  as  they  sat,  she  had  no  defence  for  her 
scarlet  cheeks  ;  her  eyes  wavered. 

"  We  will  land  here ;  the  cottagers  shall  row  the  boat 
up,"  she  said. 

"Somewhere  —  anywhere,"  said  Beauchamp.  "But  I 
must  speak.  I  will  tell  you  now.  I  do  not  think  you  to 
blame — barely;  not  in  my  sight;  though  no  man  living 
Avould  have  suffered  as  I  should.  Probably  some  days  more 
and  you  would  have  been  lost.  You  looked  for  me  !  Trust 
3'our  instinct  now  I'm  with  you  as  well  as  when  I'm  absent. 
Have  you  courage?  that's  the  question.  You  have  years  to 
live.  Can  you  live  them  in  this  place — with  honour  ?  and 
alive  really  ?" 

Renee's  eyes  grew  wide ;  she  tried  to  frown,  and  her 
brows  merely  twitched  ;  to  speak,  and  she  was  inarticulate. 
His  madness,  miraculous  penetration,  and  the  super-mas- 
culine charity  in  him,  unknown  to  the  world  of  young  mm 
in  their  treatment  of  women,  excited,  awed,  and  melted  her. 


224  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

He  had  seen  tlie  whole  truth  of  her  relations  with  M* 
d'Henriel ! — the  wickedness  of  them  in  one  light,  the  inno- 
cence in  another;  and  without  prom23ting  a  confession  he 
forgave  her.  Could  she  believe  it  ?  This  was  love,  and 
manly  love. 

She  yearned  to  be  on  her  feet,  to  feel  the  possibility  of  an 
escape  from  him. 

She  pointed  to  a  landing.  He  sprang  to  the  bank.  "  It 
could  end  in  nothing  else,"  he  said,  "  unless  you  beat  cold 
to  me.  And  now  I  have  your  hand,  Renee !  It's  the  hand 
of  a  living  woman,  you  have  no  need  to  tell  me  that ;  but_ 
faithful  to  her  Gomrade  !  I  can  swear  it  for  her — faithful  to 
a  true  alliance!  "Tou  are  not  married,  you  are  simply  chained: 
and  you  are  terrorized.  What  a  perversion  of  you  it  is  ! 
It  wrecks  you.  But  with  me?  Am  I  not  your  lover? 
You  and  I  are  one  life.  What  have  we  suffered  for  but  to 
find  this  out  and  act  on  it  ?  Do  I  not  know  that  a  woman 
lives,  and  is  not  the  rooted  piece  of  vegetation  hypocrites 
and  tyrants  expect  her  to  be  ?  Act  on  it,  I  say ;  own  me, 
break  the  chains,  come  to  me  ;  say,  I^evil  Beauchamp  or 
death !  And  death  for  you  ?  But  you  are  poisoned  and 
thwarted — dying,  as  3'ou  live  now :  worse,  shaming  the 
Renee  I  knew.  Ah — Venice !  But  now  we  are  both  of  us 
wiser  and  stronger :  we  have  gone  through  fire.  Who  fore- 
told it  ?  This  day,  and  this  misery  and  perversion  that  we 
lean  turn  to  joy,  if  we  will — if  you  will !  No  heart  to  dare 
is  no  heart  to  love  ! — answer  that!  Sball  I  see  you  cower 
away  from  me  again  ?     Not  this  time  !" 

He  swept  on  in  a  flood,  uttei-ed  mad  things,  foolish  things, 
and  things  of  an  insight  electrifying  to  her.  Through  the 
cottager's  garden,  across  a  field,  and  within  the  park  gates 
of  Tourdestelle  it  continued  unceasingly  ;  and  deeply  was 
she  won  by  the  rebellious  note  in  all  that  he  said,  deeply 
too  by  his  disregard  of  the  vulgar  arts  of  w^ooers  :  she 
detected  none.  He  did  not  speak  so,  much  to  win  as  to  help 
her  to  see  -with.- her  own' orbs.  Nor  ""was  it  roughly  or 
chidingly,  though  it  was  absolutely,  that  he  stripped  her  of 
the  veil  a  w^avering  woman  will  keep  to  herself  from  her 
heart's  lord  if  she  can.  ^ 

They  arrived  long  after  the  boat  at  Tourdestelle,  and 
Beaucha,mp  might  believe  he  had  prevailed  with  her,  but 
for  her  forlorn  repetition  of  the  question  he  had  put  to  her 


ME.  BLACKBURN  TUCKHAM.  225 

idly  and  as  a  new  idea,  instead  of  significaiiilr,  -with  a  recol- 
lection and  a  donbt — "  Have  I  courage,  Nevil  ?" 

The  grain  of  common  sense  in  cowardice  caused  her  to 
repeat  it  when  her  reason^  was  bedimmed,  and  passion 
assumed  the  right  to  show  the  way  of  right  and  wrong. 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

MR.  BLACKBUEX  TUCKHAM. 


Some  time  after  Beauchamp  had  been  seen  renewing  his 
canvass  in  Bevisham  a  report  reached  Mount  Laui-els  that  he 
was  lame  of  a  leg.  The  wits  of  the  opposite  camp  revived 
the  French  Marquees,  but  it  was  generally  acknowledged 
that  he  had  come  back  without  the  lady:  she  was  invisible. 
Cecilia  Halkett  rode  home  with  her  father  on  a  ('nsky 
Autumn  evening,  and  found  the  card  of  Commander  Beau- 
champ  awaiting  her.  He  might  have  stayed  to  see  her, 
she  thought.  Ladies  are  not  customarily  so  very  late  in 
returning  from  a  ride  on  chill  evenings  of  Autumn.  Only  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  was  between  his  visit  and  her  return.  The 
shortness  of  the  interval  made  it  appear  the  deeper  gulf. 
vShe  noticed  that'her  father  particularly  inquired  of  the  man- 
servant whether  Captain  Beauchamp  limped.  It  seemed  a 
piece  of  kindly  anxiety  on  his  part.  The  captain  was 
mounted,  the  man  said.  Cecilia  was  conscious  of  rumours 
being  abroad  relating  to  IS'evil's  expedition  to  France ;  but 
he  had  enemies,  and  was  at  war  with  them,  and  she  held 
herself  indifferent  to  tattle.  This  card  bearing  his  name, 
recently  in  his  hand,  was  much  more  insidious  and  pre- 
cise. She  took  it  to  her  room  to  look  at  it.  Nothing  but 
his  name  and  naval  title  was  inscribed  ;  no  pencilled  iine ; 
she  had  not  expected  to  discover  one.  The  simple  card  was 
her  dark  light,  as  a  handkerchief,  a  flower,  a  knot  of  riband, 
has  been  for  men  luridly  illuminated  by  such  small  sparks  to 
fling  their  beams  on  shadows  and  read  the  monstrous  things 
for  truths.  Her  purer  virgin  blood  was  not  inflamed.  She 
read  the  signification  of  the  card  sadly  as  she  did  clearly. 
What  she  could  not  so  distinctly  imagine  was,  how  he  could 

Q 


226 

reconcile  tlie  devotion  to  liis  countrj,  which,  he  had  tanght 
her  to  put  her  faith  in,  with  his  unhappy  subjection  to 
Madame  de  Rouaillout.  How  could  the  nobler  sentiment 
exist  side  by  side  with  one  that  was  lawless  ?  Or  was  the 
wildness  characteristic  of  his  political  views  proof  of  a  nature 
inclining  to  disown  moral  tics  ?  She  feared  so  ;  he  did  not 
speak  of  the  clergy  respectfully.  Heading  in  the  dark,  she 
was  forced  fo  rely  on  her  social  instincts,  and  she  distrusted 
her  personal  feelings  as  mucli  as  she  could,  for  she  wished  to 
know  the  truth  of  him;  anything,  pain  and  heartrending, 
rather  than  the  shutting  of  the  eyes  in  an  unw^orthy  aban- 
donment to  mere  emotion  and  fascination,  Cecilia's  love 
could  not  be  otherwise  given  to  a  man,  however  near  she 
might  be  drawn  to  love — though  she  should  suffer  the  pangs 
of  love  cruelly. 

She  placed  his  card  in  her  writing  desk  ;  she  had  his 
likeness  there.  Commander  Beauchamp  encouraged  the  art 
of  photography,  as  those  that  make  long  voyages  do,  in 
reciprocating  what  they  petition  their  friends  for.  Mrs. 
Rosamund  Culling  had  a  whole  collection  of  photographs  of 
him,  equal  to  a  visual  history  of  his  growth  in  chapters,  from 
boyhood  to  midshipmanship  and  to  manhood.  The  specimen 
possessed  by  Cecilia  was  one  of  a  couple  that  Beauchamp  had 
forwarded  to  Mrs.  Grancey  Lcspel  on  the  day  of  his  dejjarture 
for  France,  and  was  a  present  from  that  lady,  purchased, 
like  so  many  joresents,  at  a  cost  Cecilia  wO|uld  have  paid 
heavily  in  gold  to  have  becTi  spared,  namely,  a  public  blush. 
She  was  allowed  to  make  her  choice,  and  she  chose  the  profile, 
repeating  a  remark  of  jSFrs.  Culling's,  that  it  suggested  an 
arrow-head  in  the  up-flight;  whereupon  Mr.  Stukoly  Culbrett 
had  said,  "  Then  there  is  the  m,an,  for  he  is  undoubtedly  a 
projectile  ;"  nor  were  politically-hostile  punsters  on  an  arrow- 
head inactive.  But  Cecilia  was  thinking  of  the  side-face  she 
(less  intently  than  Beauchamp  at  hers)  had  f^hmced  at  during 
the  drive  into  Bevisham.  At  that  moment,  she  fancied 
Madame  de  Rouaillout  might  be  doing  likewise  ;  and  oh  that 
she  had  the  portrait  of  the  French  lady  as  w^ell ! 

JSText  day  her  father  tossed  her  a  photograph  of  another 
gentleman,  coming  out  of  a  letter  he  had  received  from  old 
Mrs.  Beauchamp.  He  asked  her  opinion  of  it.  She  said, 
"  I  think  he  would  have  suited  Bevisham  better  than  Captain 
Baskelett."     Of  the  original,  who  presented  himself  at  Mount 


I 


MR.  BLACKBUEN  TTJCKHAM.  227 

Laurels  in  the  course  of  the  week,  she  had  nothing  to  say, 
except  that  he  was  very  like  the  photograph,  very  unlike 
Nevil  Beauchamp.  "  Yes,  there  I'm  of  your  opinion,"  her 
father  observed.  The  gentleman  was  Mr.  Blackburn  Tuck- 
ham,  and  it  was  amusing  to  find  an  exuberant  Tory  in  one 
who  was  the  reverse  of  the  cavalier  type.  ISTevil  and  he 
seemed  to  have  been  sorted  to  the  wrong-  sides.  Mr.  Tuckham 
had  a  round  head,  square  flat  forehead,  and  ruddy  face  ;  he 
stood  as  if  his  feet  claimed  the  earth  under  them  for  his  own, 
with  a  certain  shortness  of  leg  that  detracted  from  the 
majesty  of  his  resemblance  to  oar  Eighth  Harry,  but  increased 
his  air  of  solidity ;  and  he  was  authoritative  in  speaking. 
"Let  me  set  you  right,  sir,"  he  said  sometimes  to  Colonel 
Halkett,  and  that  was  his  modesty.  "  You  are  altogether 
wrong,"  Miss  Halkett  heard  herself  informed,  which  was  his 
courtesy.  He  examined  some  of  her  water-colour  dra  vings 
before  sitting  down  to  dinner,  approved  of  them,  but  thou glit 
it  necessary  to  lay  a  broad  finger  on  them  to  show  their 
defects.  On  the  question  of  politics,  "  I  venture  to  state," 
he  remarked,  in  anything  but  the  tone  of  a  venture,  "  that  no 
educated  man  of  ordinary  sense  who  has  visited  our  colonies 
will  come  back  a  Liberal."  As  for  a  man  of  sense  and  educa- 
tion being  a  Radical,  he  scouted  the  notion  Avith  a  pooh 
sufficient  to  awaken  a  vessel  in  the  doldrums.  He  said 
carelessly  of  Commander  Beauchamp,  that  he  might  think 
himself  one.  Either  the  Radical  candidate  for  Bevisham 
stood  self-deceived,  or — the  other  sup]iosition.  ^Mr.  Tuckham 
would  venture  to  state  that  no  English  gentleman,  exempt 
from  an  examination  by  order  of  the  Commissioners  of 
Lunacy,  could  be  sincerely  a  Radical.  "Not  a  bit  of  it; 
nonsense,"  he  replied  to  Miss  Halkett's  hint  at  the  existence 
of  Radical  views;  "that  is,  those  views  are  out  of  politics  ; 
they  are  matters  for  the  police.  Dutch  dykes  are  built  to 
shut  away  the  sea  from  cultivated  land,  and  of  course  it's  a 
part  of  the  business  of  the  Dutch  Government  to  keep  up  the 
dykes,  and  of  ours  to  guard  against  the  mob ;  but  that  is 
only  a  political  consideration  after  the  mob  has  been  allowed 
to  undermine  our  defences." 

"  They  speak,"  said  Miss  Halkett,  "of  educating  the  people 
to  fit  them " 

"  They  speak  of  commanding  the  winds  and  tides,"  he^it 
h.er  short,  with  no  clear  analogy  ;  "  wait  till  we  have  a  storai 

q"2 


228  BBAUCHAMP  S  CAREER. 

It's  a  delnsion  amoiTnting  to  dementedness  to  suppose  that, 
with  tlie  people  inside  our  defences,  we  can  be  taming  them 
and  tricking  them.  As  for  sending  them  to  school  after 
giving  them  power,  it's  like  asking  a  wild  beast  to  sit  down 
to  dinner  with  us — he  wants  the  whole  table  and  us  too. 
The  best  education  for  the  people  is  government.  They're 
beginning  to  see  that  in  Lancashire  at  last.  I  ran  down  to 
Lancashire  for  a  couple  of  days  on  my  landing,  and  I'm 
thankful  to  say  Lancashire  is  preparing  to  take  a  step  back. 
Lancashire  leads  the  country.  Lancashire  men  see  what  this 
Liberalism  has  done  for  the  Labour-market." 

"  Captain  Beauchamp  considers  that  the  political  change 
coming  over  the  minds  of  the  manufacturers  is  due  to  the 
large  fortunes  they  have  made,"  said  Miss  Halkett,  mali- 
'ciously  associating  a  Radical  prophet  with  him. 

He  was  unaffected  by  it,  and  continued  :  "  Property  is 
ballast  as  well  as  treasure.  I  call  property  funded  good 
>  sense.  I  Avould  give  it  every  privilege.  If  Ave  are  to  speak 
of  patriotism,  I  say  the  possession  of  property  guarantees  it. 
I  maintain  that  the  lead  of  men  of  property  is  in  most  cases 
sure  to  be  the  safe  one." 

"  I  think  so,"  Colonel  Halkett  interposed,  and  he  spoke  as 
a  man  of  pi'operty. 

Mr.  Tuckham  grew  fervent  in  his  allusions  to  our  wealth 
and  our  commerce.  Having  won  the  race  and  gained  the 
prize,  shall  we  let  it  slip  out  of  our  grasp  ?  Upon  this  topic 
his  voice  descended  to  tones  of  priestlike  awe :  for  are  we 
not  the  envy  of  the  world  ?  Our  wealth  is  countless, 
fabulous.  It  may  well  inspire  veneration.  And  we  have 
won  it  with  our  hands,  thanks  (he  implied  it  so)  to  our 
religion.  We  are  rich  in  mone^^  and  industry,  in  those  twc 
things  only,  and  the  corruption  of  an  energetic  industry  is 
constantly  threatened  by  the  profusion  of  wealth  giving  it 
employment.  This  being  the  case,  either  your  Radicals  do 
not  know  the  first  conditions  of  human  nature,  or  they  do  ; 
and  if  they  do  they  are  traitors,  and  the  Liberals  opening 
the  gates  to  them  are  fools  :  and  some  are  knaves.  We 
perish  as  a  Great  Power  if  we  cease  to  look  sharp  ahead, 
hold  firm  together,  and  make  the  utmost  of  what  we  possess. 
The  w^ord  for  the  perfoimance  of  those  duties  is  Toryism  :  a 
word  with  an  older  flavour  than  Conservatism,  and  Mr. 
Tuckham  preferred  it.     By  all  means  let  workmen  be  free 


MR.   BLACKBURN  TUCKHAM.  229 

men  :  but  a  man  must  earn  his  freedom  daily,  or  lie  will 
become  a  slave  in  some  form  or  another  :  and  the  "way  to 
earn  it  is  by  work  and  obedience  to  right  direction.  In 
a  country  like  ours,  open  on  all  sides  to  the  competition  of 
intelligence  and  strength,  with  a  Press  that  is  the  voice  of 
all  parties  and  of  every  interest ;  in  a  country  offering  to 
your  investments  three  and  a  half  and  more  per  cent.,  secure 
as  the  firmament  ! — 

He  perceived  an  amazed  expression  on  Miss  Halkett's 
countenance  ;  and  "Ay,"  said  he,  "that  means  the  certainty 
of  food  to  millions  of  mouths,  and  comforts,  if  not  luxuries, 
to  half  the  population.  A  safe  percentage  on  savings  is  the 
basis  of  civilization." 

But  he  liaU  bruised  his  eloquence,  for  though  you  may 
start  a  sermon  from  stones  to  hit  the  stars,  he  must  be  a 
practised  orator  who  shall  descend  out  of  the  abstract  to 
take  up  a  heavy  lump  of  the  concrete  without  unseating 
himself,  and  he  stammered  and  came  to  a  flat  ending  : — "  In 
such  a  country— well,  I  venture  to  say,  we  have  a  right  to 
condemn  in  advance  distui'bers  of  the  peace,  and  they  must 
show  very  good  cause  indeed  for  not  being  summarily  held 
to  account  for  their  conduct." 

The  allocution  was  not  delivered  in  the  presence  of  an 
audience  other  than  sympathetic,  and  Miss  Halkett  rightly 
guessed  that  it  was  intended  to  strike  Captain  Beauchamp 
by  ricochet.  He  puffed  at  the  mention  of  Beauchamp's 
name.  He  had  read  a  reported  speecli  or  two  of  Beau- 
champ's,  and  shook  his  head  over  a  quotation  of  the  stuff, 
as  though  he  would  have  sprung  at  him  like  a  lion,  but  for 
his  enrolment  as  a  constable. 

Xot  a  whit  the  less  did  Mr.  Tuckham  drink  his  claret 
relishingly.  and  he  told  stories  incidental  to  his  travels  now 
and  then,  commended  the  fishing  here,  the  shooting  there, 
and  in  some  few  places  the  cookery,  with  much  bright 
emphasis  when  it  could  be  praised  ;  it  appeared  to  be  an 
endearing  recollection  to  him.  Still,  as  a  man  of  progress 
he  declared  his  belief  that  we  English  would  ultimately 
turn  out  the  best  cooks,  having  indubitably  the  best  mate 
rial.  "  Our  incomprehensible  jDolitical  pusillanimity  "  was 
the  one  sad  point  about  us :  we  had  been  driven  from  sur» 
render  to  surrender. 


230  EEAUCFAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  Like  geese  upon  a  common,  I  have  heard  it  said,"  Miss 
Halkett  assisted  him  to  Dr.  Shrapnel's  comparison. 

Mr.  Tuckham  laughed,  and  half  yawned  and  sighed, 
"  Dear  me  !" 

His  laughter  was  catching,  and  somehow  more  persuasive 
of  the  soundness  of  the  man's  heart  and  head  than  his 
remarks. 

She  would  have  been  astonished  to  know  that  a  gentle- 
man so  uncourtlj,  if  not  uncouth — judged  by  the  standard 
of  the  circle  she  moved  in — and  so  unskilled  in  pleasing  the 
sight  and  hearing  of  ladies  as  to  treat  them  like  junior  com- 
rades, had  raised  the  vow  within  himself  on  seeing  her  :  You, 
or  no  woman  ! 

The  colonel  delighted  in  him,  both  as  a  strong  and  able 
young  fellow,  and  a  refreshingly  aggressive  recruit  of  his 
party,  who  was  for  onslaught,  and  invoked  common  sense, 
instead  of  waving  the  flag  of  sentiment  in  retreat ;  a  very 
horse-artilleryman  of  Tories.  Regretting  immensely  that 
Mr,  Tuckham  had  not  reached  England  earlier,  that  he 
might  have  occupied  the  seat  for  Bevisham,  about  to  be 
given  to  Captain  Baskelett,  Colonel  Halkett  set  up  a  con- 
trast of  Blackburn  Tuckham,  and  Nevil  Beaachamp ;  a 
singular  instance  of  unfairness,  his  daughter  thought,  con- 
sidering that  the  distinct  contrast  presented  by  the  circum- 
stances was  that  of  Mr.  Tuckham  and  Captain  Baskelett. 

"  It    seems    to    me,  papa,  that   you    are    contrasting   the 
dealist  and  the  realist,"  she  said. 
\      "  Ah  well,  we  don't  want  the  idealist  in  politics,"  muttered 
\the  colonel. 

Latterly  he  also  had  taken  to  shaking  his  head  over  Nevil : 
Cecilia  dared  not  ask  him  why. 

Mr.  Tuckham  arrived  at  ]SIount  Laurels  on  the  eve  of  the 
Nomination  day  in  Bevisham.  An  article  in  the  Bevisham 
Gazette  calling  upon  all  true  Liberals  to  demonstrate  their 
unanimity  by  a  multitudinous  show  of  hands,  he  ascribed  to 
the  writing  of  a  child  of  Erin  ;  and  he  was  highly  diverted 
by  the  Liberal's  hii-ing  of  Paddy  to  "  pen  and  spout "  for 
him.  "  A  Scotchman  manages,  and  Paddy  does  the  sermon 
for  all  their  journals,"  he  said  off-hand  ;  adding  :  "  And  the 
English  are  the  compositors,  I  suppose."  You  may  take 
that  for  an  instance  of  the  national  spirit  of  Liberal  news- 
papers !     "Ah!"   sighed  the   colonel,  as   at  a  case  clearly 


ME.  BLACKBURN  TUCKKAM.  231 

demonstrated  against  tliem.  A  drive  dowQ  to  Berisham  to 
witness  the  ceremony  of  tlie  nomination  in  the  townhall 
sobered  Mr.  Tnckhani's  disposition  to  generalize.  Bean- 
champ  had  the  show  of  hands,  and  to  saj  with  Captain 
Baskelett,  that  they  were  a  dirty  majoritj^,  was  beneath  Mr. 
Tuckham's  verbal  antagonism.  He  fell  into  a  studious 
reserve,  noting  everything,  listening  to  everybody,  greatly 
to  Colonel  Halkett's  admiration  of  one  by  nature  a  talker 
and  a  thunderer. 

The  show  of  hands  Mr.  Seymour  Austin  declared  to  be  the 
most  delusive  of  electoral  auspices  ;  and  it  proved  so.  A 
little  later  than  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  election- 
day,  Cecilia  received  a  message  from  her  father  telling  her 
that  both  of  the  Liberals  were  headed  ;  '  Beauchamp  no- 
where.' 

]^s.  Grancey  Lespel  was  the  next  herald  of  Beauchamp's 
defeat.  She  merely  stated  the  fact  that  she  had  met  the 
colonel  and  Mr.  Blackburn  Tuckham  driving  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town,  and  had  promised  to  bring  Cecilia  the 
final  numbers  of  the  poll.  Without  naming  them,  she  un 
rolled  the  greater  business  in  her  mind. 

"  A  man  who  in  the  middle  of  an  Election  goes  over  to 
France  to  fight  a  duel,  can  hardly  expect  to  Avin ;  he  has  all 
the  morality  of  an  English  borough  opposed  to  him,"  she 
said  ;  and  seeing  the  young  lad}^  stiffen  :  "  Oh  !  the  duel  is 
positive,"  she  dropped  her  voice.  "With  the  husband.  Who 
else  could  it  be  ?  And  returns  invalided.  That  is  evidence. 
My  nephew  Palmet  has  it  from  Vivian  Ducie,  and  he  is 
acquainted  with  her  tolerably  intimately,  and  the  story  is, 
she  was  overtaken  in  her  flight  in  the  night,  and  the  duel 
followed  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  but  her  brother 
insisted  on  fighting  for  Captain  Beauchamp,  and  I  cannot 
tell  you  how — but  his  place  in  it  I  cant  explain — there  was 
a  beau  jeune  homnie,  and  it's  quite  possible  that  he  should 
have  been  the  person  to  stand  up  against  the  marquis.  At 
any  rate,  he  insulted  Captain  Beauchamp,  or  thought  your 
hero  had  insulted  him,  and  the  duel  was  with  one  or  the 
other.  It  matters  exceedingly  little  with  whom,  if  a  duel 
was  fought,  and  you  see  we  have  quite  established  that." 

"  I  hope  it  is  not  true,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  My  dear,  that  is  the  Christian  thing  to  do,"  said  Mrs. 
Lespel.     "  Duelling  is  horrible  :  though  those  Romfreys  ! — 


232  BEAi  champ's  career. 

V  and  tlie  Beanchamps  were  just  as  bad,  or  nearly.  Colonel 
'^  Richard  fought  for  a  friend's  wife  or  sister.  But  in  these 
days  duelling  is  incredible.  It  was  an  inhuman  practice 
always,  and  it  is  now  worse — it  is  a  breach  of  manners.  I 
would  hope  it  is  not  true ;  and  you  may  mean  that  I  have  it 
from  Lord  Palmet.  But  I  know  Vivian  Ducie  as  well  as  1 
know  my  nephew,  and  if  he  distinctly  mentions  an  occur- 
rence, we  may  too  surely  rely  on  the  truth  of  it ;  he  is  not  a 
man  to  spread  mischief.  Are  you  unaware  that  he  met 
Captain  Beauchamp  at  the  chateau  of  the  marquise  ?  The 
whole  story  was  acted  under  his  eyes.  He  had  only  to  take 
up  his  pen.  Generally  he  favours  me  with  his  French 
gossip.  I  suppose  there  were  circumstances  in  this  ali'air 
more  suitable  to  Palmet  than  to  me.  He  wrote  a  description 
of  Madame  de  Bouaillout  that  set  Palmet  strutting  about 
for  an  hour.  I  have  no  doubt  she  must  be  a  very  beautiful 
woman,  for  a  Frenchwoman  :  not  i-egular  features  ;  expres- 
j  sive,  capricious.  Vivian  Ducie  lays  groat  stress  on  her  eyes 
J  and  eyebrows,  and,  I  think,  her  hair.  With  a  Frenchwoman's 
figure,  that  is  enough  to  make  men  crazy.  He  says  her  hus- 
band deserves — but  what  will  not  young  men  write  ?  It  is 
deeply  to  be  regretted  that  Englishmen  abroad — women  the 
same,  I  fear — get  the  Continental  tone  in  morals.  But  how 
Captain  Beauchamp  could  expect  to  carry  on  an  Election  and 
an  intrigue  together,  only  a  head  like  his  can  tell  us. 
Grancey  is  in  high  indignation  with  him.  It  does  not  con- 
cern the  Election,  you  can  imagine.  Something  that  man 
Dr.  Shrapnel  has  done,  which  he  says  Captain  Beauchamp 
could  have  prevented.  Quarrels  of  men  !  I  liave  instructed 
Palmet  to  write  to  Vivian  Ducie  for  a  photograph  of  Madame 
de  Rouaillout.  Do  you  know,  one  has  a  curiosity  to  see  the 
face  of  the  woman  for  whom  a  man  ruins  himself.  But  I 
say  again,  he  ought  to  be  married." 

"  That  there  may  be  two  victims  ?*'  Cecilia  said  it  s'mil- 
ing. 

She  was  young  in  suffering,  and  thought,  as  the  unseasoned 
and  inexperienced  do,  that  a  mask  is  a  concealment. 

"  Married — settled  ;  to  have  him  bound  in  honour,"  said 
Mrs.  Lespel.  "I  had  a  conversation  with  him  when  he  was 
at  Itchincope  ;  and  his  look,  and  wliat  I  know  of  his  father, 
that  gallant  and  handsome  Colonel  Richard  Beauchamp, 
■would   give    one   a   kind   of    confidence  in   him;  supposir.g 


MR.  BLACKBUEN  TUCKHAM.  233 

always  fhat  lie  is  not  strack  with  one  of  those  deadly- 
passions  that  are  like  snakes,  like  maci^ic.  I  positively 
believe  in  them.  I  hare  seen  them.  And  if  they  end;  they 
end  as  if  the  man  were  burnt  out,  and  was  ashes  inside ;  as 
you  see  Mr.  Stukely  Culbrett,  all  cynicism.  You  wouTd  not 
now  suspect  him  of  a  passion  !  It  is  true.  Oh,  I  know  it ! 
That  is  what  the  men  go  to.  The  women  die.  Vera  Winter 
died  at  twenty-three.  Caroline  Ormond  was  hardly  older. 
You  know  her  story ;  everybody  knows  it.  The  most 
siugular  and  convincing  case  was  that  of  Lord  Alfred 
Burnley  and  Lady  Susan  Gardiner,  wife  of  the  general ;  and 
there  was  an  instance  of  two  similarly  afflicted — a  very  rare 
case,  most  rare  :  they  never  could  meet  to  part !  It  was 
almost  ludicrous.  It  is  now  quite  certain  that  they  did  not 
conspire  to  meet.  At  last  the  absolute  fatality  became  so 
well  understood  by  the  persons  immediately  interested 
You  laugh  ?" 

"  Do  I  laugh  ?"  said  Cecilia. 

*'  We  should  all  know  the  world,  my  dear,  and  you  are  a 
strong  head.  The  knowledge  is  only  dangerous  for  fools. 
And  if  romance  is  occasionally  ridiculous,  as  I  own  it  can 
be,  humdrum,  I  protest,  is  everlastingly  so.  By-the-by,  I 
should  have  told  you  that  Captain  Beauchamp  was  one 
hundred  and  ninety  below  Captain  Baskelett  when  the  state 
of  the  poll  was  handed  to  me.  The  gentleman  driving  with 
your  father  compared  the  Liberals  to  a  parachute  ciit  away 
from  the  balloon.     Is  he  array  or  navy  ?" 

"  He  is  a  barrister,  and  some  cousin  of  Captain  Beau- 
champ." 

"  I  should  not  have  taken  him  for  a  Beauchamp,"  said 
Mrs.  Lespel ;  and,  resuming  her  worldly  sagacity,  "I  should 
not  like  to  be  in  opposition  to  that  young  man." 

She  seemed  to  have  a  fancy  unexpressed  regarding  Mr. 
Tuckham.  Reminding  herself  that  she  might  be  behind 
time  at  Itchincope,  where  the  guests  would  be  numerous 
that  evening,  and  the  song  of  triumph  loud,  with  Captain 
Baskelett  to  lead  it,  she  kissed  the  young  lady  she  had  unin- 
tentionally been  torturing  so  long,  and  drove  away. 

Cecilia;  hoped  it  was  not  true.  Her  heart  sank  heavily 
under  the  belief  that  it  was.  She  imagined  the  world  abus- 
ing N'evii  and  casting  him  ont,  as  those  electors  of  Bevisham 
had  just  done,  and  impulsively  she  pleaded  for  him,  and 


234  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

became  drowned  in  criminal  blushes  tliat  forced  ber  to 
defend  berself  with  a  determination  not  to  believe  the 
dreadful  storj,  though  she  continued  mitigating  the  wicked- 
ness of  it ;  as  if,  by  a  singular  inversion  of  the  fact,  her  clear 
good  sense  excused,  and  it  w^as  her  heart  that  condemned 
bim.  She  dwelt  fondly  on  an  image  of  the  "  gallant  and 
handsome  Colonel  Richard  Beauchamp,"  conjured  up  in  her 
mind  from  the  fervour  of  Mrs.  Lespel  w^hen  speaking  of 
Nevil's  father,  whose  chivalry  threw  a  light  on  the  son's, 
and  whose  errors,  condoned  by  time,  and  with  a  certain 
brilliancy  playing  above  them,  interceded  strangely  on  behalf 
of  NeviL 


CHAPTER  XXYII. 

A  SHORT  SIDELOOK  AT  THE  ELECTION. 

The  brisk  Election-day,  unlike  that  weai-isome  but  in- 
structive canvass  of  the  Englishman  in  his  castle  vicatim, 
teaches  little  ;  and  its  humours  are  those  of  a  badly-managed 
Christmas  pantomime  without  a  columbine — old  tricks,  no 
graces.  Nevertheless,  things  hang  together  so  that  it  cannot 
be  passed  over  with  a  bare  statement  of  the  fact  of  the  Liberal- 
Radical  defeat  in  Bevisham  :  the  day  was  not  without  fruit 
in  time  to  come  for  him  whom  his  commiserating  admirers 
of  the  non- voting  sex  all  round  the  borough  called  the  poor 
dear  commander.  Beauchamp 's  holiday  out  of  England  had 
incited  Dr.  Shrapnel  to  break  a  positive  restriction  put  upon 
him  by  Jenny  Denham,  and  actively  pursue  the  canvass  and 
the  harangue  in  person ;  by  which  conduct,  as  Jenny  had 
foreseen,  many  temperate  electors  were  alienated  from 
Commander  Beauchamp,  though  no  doubt  the  Radicals  were 
made  compact :  for  they  may  be  the  skirmishing  faction — 
poor  scattered  fragments,  none  of  them  sufficiently  downi^ght 
for  the  other ;  each  outstripping  each ;  rudimentary  em- 
perors, elementary  prophets,  inspired  physicians,  nostrum- 
devouring  patients,  whatsoever  you  will ;  and  still  here  and 
there  a  man  shall  arise  to  march  them  in  close  columns,  if 
they  can  but  trust  him :  in  perfect  subordination,  a  model 
even  for  Tories  while  they  keep  shoulder  to  shoulder.     And 


A  SHOET  SIDELOOK  AT  THE  ELECTION.  235 

to  beliold  sncli  a  disciplined  body  is  intoxicating  to  the  eye 
of  a  leader  accustomed  to  count  ahead  upon  vapourish 
abstractions,  and  therefore  predisposed  to  add  a  couple  of 
nouo-hts  to  every  tangible  figure  in  his  grasp.  Thus  will  a 
realized  fifty  become  five  hundred  or  five  thousand  to  him  : 
the  very  sense  of  number  is  instinct  with  multiplication  in 
his  mind  ;  and  those  years  far  on  in  advance,  which  he  has 
been  looking  to  with  some  fatigue  to  the  optics,  will  sud- 
denly and  rollickingly  roll  up  to  him  at  the  shutting  of  his 
eyes  in  a  temporary  fit  of  gratification.  So,  by  looking  and 
by  not  looking,  he  achieves  his  phantom  victory — embraces 
his  cloud.  Dr.  Shrapnel  conceived  that  the  day  was  to 
be  a  Kadical  success  ;  and  he,  a  citizen  aged  and  exercised 
in  reverses,  so  rounded  by  the  habit  of  them  indeed  as  to 
tumble  and  recover  himself  on  the  wind  of  the  blow  that 
struck  him,  was,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  staggered  and 
cast  down  when  he  saw  Beauchamp  drop,  knowing  full  well 
his  regiment  had  polled  to  a  man.  Radicals  poll  early; 
they  would  poll  at  cockcrow  if  they  might ;  they  dance  on 
the  morning.  'As  for  their  chagrin  at  noon,  you  will  find 
descriptions  of  it  in  the  poet's  Inferno.  They  are  for  lifting 
our  clay  soil  on  a  lever  of  Archimedes,  and  are  not  gi-eat 
mathematicians.  They  have  perchance  a  foot  of  our  earth, 
and  perpetually  do  they  seem  to  be  producing  an  eifect, 
perpetually  does  the  whole  land  roll  back  on  them.  You 
have  not  surely  to  be  reminded  that  it  harts  them ;  the 
weight  is  immense.  Dr.  Shrapnel,  however,  speedily  looked 
out  again  on  his  vast  horizon,  though  prostrate.  He  regained 
his  height  of  stature  with  no  man's  help.  Success  was  but 
postponed  for  a  generation  or  two.  Is  it  so  very  distant  ? 
Gaze  on  it  with  the  eye  of  our  parent  orb!  "I  shall  not 
see  it  here  ;  you  may,"  he  said  to  Jenny  Denham  ;  and  he 
fortified  his  outlook  by  saying  to  Mr.  Lydiard  that  the  Toi-ies 
of  our  time  walked,  or  rather  stuck,  in  the  track  of  the 
Radicals  of  a  generation  back.  Note,  then,  that  Radicals, 
always  marching  to  the  triumph,  never  taste  it ;  and  for 
Tories  it  is  Dead  Sea  fruit,  ashes  in  their  mouths  !  Those 
Liberals,  those  temporisers,  compromisers,  a  concourse  of 
atoms  1  glorify  themselves  in  the  animal  satisfaction  of 
sucking  the  juice  of  the  fruit,  for  which  they  pay  with  their 
souls.  They  have  no  true  cohesion,  for  they  have  no  vital 
principle. 


236  BEAU^HAMP'S  CAREER. 

Mv.  Lydiard  being  a  Liberal,  bade  the  doctor  rot  to  forget 
the  work  of  the  Liberals,  who  touched  on  Tory  and  Radical 
with  a  pretty  steady  swing,  from  side  to  side,  in  the  manner 
of  the  pendulum  of  a  clock,  which  is  the  clock's  life,  remem- 
ber that.  The  Liberals  are  the  professors  of  the  practicable 
in  politics. 

"  A  suitable  image  for  timeservers  !"  Dr.  Shrapnel  ex- 
claimed, intolerant  of  any  mention  of  the  Liberals  as  a  party, 
especiall}"  in  the  hour  of  Radical  discomfiture,  when  the  fact 
that  compromisci'S  should  exist  exasperates  men  of  a  prin- 
ciple. "  Your  Liberals  are  the  band  of  Pyrrhus,  an  army 
of  bastards,  mercenaries  professing  the  practicable  for  pay ! 
They  know  us  the  motive  force,  the  Tories  the  resisting 
power,  and  they  feign  to  aid  us  in  battering  our  enemy,  that 
they  may  stop  the  shock.  We  fight,  they  profit.  What  are 
they  ?  Stranded  Whigs,  crotchetty  manufacturers  ;  dissen- 
tient religionists  ;  the  half-minded,  the  hare-hearted;  the  I 
would  and  I  would  not — shifty  creatures,  with  youth's 
enthusiasm  decaying  in  them,  and  a  purse  beginning  to 
jingle ;  feai-ing  lest  we  do  too  much  for  safety,  our  enemy 
not  enough  for  safety.  They  a  party  ?  Let  them  take 
action  and  see !  We  stand  a  thousand  defeats  ;  they  not 
one !  Compromise  begat  them.  Once  let  them  leave  suck- 
ing the  teats  of  compromise,  yea,  once  put  on  the  air  of  men 
who  fight  and  die  for  a  cause,  they  fly  to  pieces.  And 
whither  the  fragments  ?  Chiefly,  my  friend,  into  the  Tory 
ranks.  Seriously  so  I  say.  You  between  future  and  past 
are  for  the  present — but  with  the  hunted  look  behind  of 
all  godless  livers  in  the  present.  You  Liberals  are  Tories 
with  foresight,  Radicals  without  faith.  You  start,  in  fear 
of  Toryism,  on  an  errand  of  Radicalism,  and  in  fear  of 
Radicalism  to  Toryism  you  draw  back.  There  is  your 
pendulum-swing !" 

Lectures  to  this  effect  were  delivered  by  Dr.  Shi^apnel 
throughout  the  day,  for  his  private  spiritual  solace  it  may 
be  supposed,  unto  Lydiard,  Turbot,  Beauchamp,  or  whom- 
soever the  man  chancing  to  be  near  him,  and  never  did  Sir 
Oracle  Avear  so  extraordinary  a  garb.  The  favourite  missiles 
of  the  day  were  fiour-bags.  Dr.  Shrapnel's  uncommon 
height,  and  his  outrageous  long  brown  coat,  would  have 
been  sufficient  to  attract  them,  without  the  reputation  he 


A  SHORT  SIDELOOK  AT  THE  ELECTION.  237 

had  for  desiring  to  subvert  evervtliing  old  Englisli.  The 
first  discharges  gave  him  the  appearance  of  a  thawing  snow- 
man. Drenchings  of  water  turned  the  flour  to  ribs  of  p^iste, 
and  in  colour  at  least  he  looked  legitimately  the  cook's  own 
spitted  hare,  escaped  from  her  basting  ladle,  elongated  on 
two  legs.  It  ensued  that  whenever  he  was  caught  sight  of, 
as  he  walked  unconcernedly  about,  the  young  street- 
professors  of  the  decorative  arts  Avere  seized  with  a  frenzy 
to  add  their  share  to  the  whitening  of  him,  until  he  might 
have  been  taken  for  a  miller  that  had  gone  bodily  through 
his  meal.  The  popular  cry  proclaimed  him  a  ghost,  and  he 
walked  like  one,  impassive,  blanched,  and  silent  amid  the 
uproar  of  mobs  of  jolly  ruffians,  for  each  of  whom  it  was  a 
point  of  honour  to  have  a  shy  at  old  Shrapnel.  Clad  in 
this  preparation  of  pie-crust,  he  called  from  time  to  time  at 
Beauchamp's  hotel,  and  renewed  his  monologue  upon  that 
Radical  empire  in  the  future  which  was  for  ever  in  the 
future  for  the  pioneers  of  men,  yet  not  the  less  their  empire. 
*'  Do  we  live  in  our  bodies  ?"  quoth  he,  replj'ing  to  his  fiery 
interrogation  :  "  Ay,  the  Tories  !  the  Liberals  1"  They  lived 
in  their  bodies.  Not  one  syllable  of  personal  consolation 
did  he  vouchsafe  to  Beauchamp.  He  did  not  imagine  it 
could  be  required  by  a  man  who  had  bathed  in  the  pure 
springs  of  Radicalism ;  and  it  should  be  remarked  that 
Beauchamp  deceived  him  by  imitating  his  air  of  happy 
abstraction,  or  subordination  of  the  faculties  to  a  distant 
view,  comparable  to  a  ship's  crew  in  difficulties  receiving 
the  report  of  the  man  at  the  masthead.  Beauchamp 
deceived  Miss  Denham  too,  and  himself,  by  saying,  as  if  he 
cherished  the  philosophy  of  defeat,  besides  the  resolution  to 
fight  on : 

"  It's  only  a  skirmish  lost,  and  that  counts  for  nothing  in  a 
battle  without  end:  it  must  be  incessant." 

"But  does.  inGessant.  battling  keep  the  intellect  clear?" 
was  her  memorable  answer. 

He  glanced  at  Lydiard,  to  indicate  that  it  came  of  that 
gentleman's  influence  upon  her  mind.  It  was  impossible 
for  him  to  think  that  women  thought.  The  idea  of  a  pretty 
woman  exercising  her  mind  indep)endently,  and  moreover 
moving  him  to  examine  his  own,  made  him  smile.  Could  a 
Bweet-faced  girl,  the  nearest  to  Renee  in  grace  of  manner 


238 


j  forget 


and   in  feature  of  all   women  known  to   him, 
sentence  that  would  set  him  reflectino-  ?     He  Avas  unable  to 
it,  though  he  allowed  her  no  credit  for  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  his  admiration  of  her  devotedness  to 
Dr.  Shrapnel  was  unbounded.  There  shone  a  strict  y 
feminine  quality  !  according  to  the  romantic  visions  of  the 
sex  entertained  bj  Commander  Beauchamp,  and  hj  others 
who  would  be  the  objects  of  it.  But  not  alone  the  passive 
virtues  were  exhibited  bj  Jenny  Denham :  she  proved  that 
she  had  high  courage.  ISTo  remonstrance  could  restrain  Dr. 
Shrapnel  from  going  out  to  watch  the  struggle,  and  she 
went  with  him  as  a  matter  of  course  on  each  occasion.  Her 
dress  bore  witness  to  her  running  the  gauntlet  beside  him. 

"  It  was  not  thrown  at  me  purposely,"  she  said,  to  quiet 
Beauchamp's  wrath.  She  saved  the  doctor  from  being 
roughly  mobbed.  Once  when  they  were  surrounded  she 
fastened  his  arm  under  hers,  and  by  simply  moving  on  with 
an  unswerving  air  of  serenity  obtained  a  passage  for  him. 
So  much  did  she  make  herself  respected,  that  the  gallant 
rascals  became  emulous  in  dexterity  to  avoid  powdering 
her,  by  loudly  execrating  any  but  dead  shots  at  the  detested 
one,  and  certain  boys  were  maltreated  for  an  ardour  involv- 
ing clumsiness.  A  young  genius  of  this  horde  conceiving, 
in  the  spirit  of  the  inventors  of  our  improved  modern  ord- 
nance, that  it  was  vain  to  cast  missiles  which  left  a  thing 
standing,  liurled  a  stone  wrapped  in  paper.  It  missed  its 
mark.  Jenny  said  nothing  about  it.  The  day  closed  with 
a  comfortable  fight  or  two  in  by-quarters  of  the  town,  pro- 
bably to  prove  that  an  undaunted  English  spirit,  spite  of 
fickle  Fortune,  survived  in  our  muscles. 


CHAPTER  XXVni. 

TOUCHING  A  TOUNG  LADt's  HEART  AND  HER  INTELLECT, 

Mr.  TuCKHAM  found  his  way  to  Dr.  Shrapnel's  cottage  to 
see  his  kinsman  on  the  day  after  the  election.  There  was  a 
dinner  in  honour  of  the  Members  for  Bevisham  at  Mount 
Laurels  in  the  evening,  and  he  was  five  minutes  behind 
military  time  when   he   entered  the   restive    drawincroom 


A  YOUNG  lady's  HEART  AND  INTELLECT.  239 

and  stood  before  the  colonel.  Xo  sooner  had  he  stated  that 
he  had  been  under  the  roof  of  Dr.  Shrapnel,  than  his 
unpunctuality  was  immediately  overlooked  in  the  burst  of 
impatience  evoked  bv  the  name. 

"  That  pestilent  fellow  !  "  Colonel  Halkett  ejaculated.  "  I 
understand  he  has  had  the  impudence  to  serve  a  notice  on 
Grancev  Lespel  about  encroachments  on  common  land." 

Some  one  described  Dr.  Shrapnel's  appearance  under  the 
flour  storm. 

"  He  deserves  anything,"  said  the  colonel,  consulting  his 
mantelpiece  clock. 

Captain  Baskelett  observed  :  "  I  shall  have  my  account 
to  settle  with  Dr.  Shrapnel."  He  spoke  like  a  man  having 
a  right  to  be  indignant,  but  excepting  that  the  doctor  had 
besto^^ed  nicknames  upon  him  in  a  speech  at  a  meeting, 
no  one  could  discover  the  grounds  for  it.  H^e  nodded  briefly. 
A  Radical  apple  had  struck  him  on  the  left  cheek-bone  as 
he  performed  his  triumphal  drive  through  the  town,  and  a 
slight  disfigurement  remained,  to  which  his  hand  was 
applied  sympathetically  at  intervals,  for  the  cheek-bone  was 
prominent  in  his  countenance,  and  did  not  well  bear 
enlargement.  And  when  a  fortunate  gentleman,  desiring  to 
be  still  more  fortunate,  would  display  the  winning  amiability 
of  his  character,  distension  of  one  cheek  gives  him  an  atflict- 
ingly  false  look  of  sweetness. 

The  bent  of  his  mind,  nevertheless,  was  to  please  Miss 
Halkett.  He  would  be  smiling,  and  intimately  smiling. 
Aware  that  she  had  a  kind  of  pitiful  sentiment  for  iSTevil,  he 
smiled  over  Xevil — poor  Xevil  !  "  I  give  you  my  word.  Miss 
Halkett,  old  Xevdl  was  off  his  head  yesterday.  I  daresay  he 
meant  to  be  civil.  I  met  him;  I  called  out  to  him,  'Good 
day,  cousin,  I'm  afraid  you're  beaten :  '  and  says  he,  '  I 
fancy  you've  gained  it,  uncle.''  He  didn't  know  where  he 
Avas  ;  all  abroad,  poor  boy.     Uncle  ! — to  me  !  " 

Miss  Halkett  wotild  have  accepted  the  instance  for  a  proof 
of  Xevil's  distractioQ,  had  not  Mr.  Seymour  Austin,  Avho  sat  L 
beside  her,  laughed  and  said  to  her  :  "  I  suppose  '  uncle  '  was  ' 
a  chance  shot,  but  it's  equal  to  a  pof^tic  epithet  in  the  light 
it  casts  on  the  story."  Then  it  seemed  to  her  that  Xevil  had 
been  keenly  quick,  and  Captain  Baskelett's  impenetrability 
was  a  sign  of  his  density.  Her  mood  was  to  think  Xevil 
Beauchamp  only  too  quick,  too  adventurous  and  restless: 


240  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

one  that  wrecked  brilliant  gifts  in  a  too  general  warfare ;  a 
lover  of  hazards,  a  hater  of  laws.  Her  ejes  flew  over  Captain 
Baskelett  a.i  she  imagined  l!^evil  addressing  him  as  uncle, 
and,  to  put  aside  a  spirit  of  mockery  rising  within  her,  she 
hinted  a  wish  to  hear  Seymour  Austin's  opinion  of  i\Ir. 
Tuckham.  He  condensed  it  in  an  interrogative  tone  :  "  The 
other  extreme  ? "  The  Tory  extreme  of  Radical  I^evil 
Beauchamp.  She  assented.  Mr.  Tuckham  was  at  that 
moment  prophesying  the  Torification  of  mankind ;  not 
as  the  trembling  venturesome  idea  which  we  cast  on 
doubtful  winds,  but  as  a  ship  is  launched  to  ride  the 
waters,  with  huzzas  for  a  thing  accomplished.  Mr.  Austin 
raised  his  shoulders  imperceptibly,  saying  to  Miss  Halkett: 
"  The  turn  will  come  to  us  as  to  others — and  go.  Kothing 
earthly  can  escape  that  revolution.  We  have  to  meet  it  with 
a  policy,  and  let  it  pass  with  measures  carried  and  our  hands 
washed  of  some  of  our  party  sins.  I  am,  I  hope,  true  to  my 
partyj  but  the  enthusiasm  of  party  I  do  not  share.  He  is 
rigjit,  however,  when  he  accuses  the  nation  of  cowardice  for 
ty^  last  ten  years.  One  third  of  the  Liberals  have  been 
;*with  us  at  heart,  and  dared  not  speak,  and  we  dared  not  say 
what  we  wished.  We  accepted  a  compact  that  satisfied  us 
both — satisfied  ns  better  than  when  we  were  opposed  by 
Whigs — that  is,  the  Liberal  reigned,  and  we  governed  :  and 
I  should  add,  a  very  clever  juggler  wa§  our  common  chief. 
Now  we  have  the  consequences  of  hollow  peacemaking,  in  a 
suffrage  that  bids  fair  to  extend  to  the  wearing  of  hats  and 
boots  for  a  qualification.  The  moral  of  it  seems  to  be  that 
cowardice  is  even  worse  for  nations  than  for  individual  men, 
though  the  consequences  come  on  us  more  slowly." 

"You  spoke  of  party  sins,"  Miss  Halkett  said  inci-e- 
dulously. 

"  I  shall  think  we  are  the  redoubtable  party  when  we  admit 
the  charge." 

"  Are  you  alluding  to  the  landowners  ?" 

"  Like  the  land  itself,  they  have  rich  veins  in  heavy  matter. 
For  instance,  the  increasing  wealth  of  the  country  is  largely 
recruiting  our  ranks;  and  we  shall  be  tcjnpted  to  mistake 
numbers  for  strength,  and  perhaps  again  be  i-eading  Conser- 
vatism for  a  special  thing  of  our  own — a  fortification.  That 
would  be  a  party  sin.  Conservatism  is  a  principle  of  govern- 
ment J  the  best  because  the  safest  for  an  old  country  ;  and 


241 

the  guarantee  that  we  do  not  lose  the  wisdom  of  past  expe- 
rience in  our  struggle  with  what  is  doubtful.  Liberalism 
stakes  too  much  on  the  chance  of  gain.  It  is  uncomfortably 
seated  on  half-a-dozen  horses  ;  and  it  has  to  feed  them  too, 
and  on  varieties  of  corn." 

"  Yes,"  Miss  Halkett  said,  pausing,  "  and  I  know  you  would 
not  talk  down  to  me,  but  the  use  of  imagery  makes  me  feel 
that  I  am  addressed  as  a  primitive  intelligence." 

''  That's  the  fault  of  my  trying  at  condensation,  as  the 
hieroglyphists  put  an  animal  for  a  paragraph.  I  am  incorri- 
gible, you  see  ;  but  the  lecture  in  prose  must  be  for  by-and- 
by,  if  you  care  to  have  it." 

"  If  you  care  to  read  it  to  me.  Did  a  single  hieroglyphic 
figure  stand  for  so  much  ?" 

"  I  have  never  deciphered  one." 

"  You  have  been  speaking  to  me  too  long  in  earnest,  Mr. 
Austin!" 

"  I  accept  the  admonition,  though  it  is  wider  than  the  truth. 
Have  you  ever  consented  to  listen  to  politics  before  ?" 

Cecilia  reddened  faintly,  thinking  of  him  who  had  taught 
her  to  listen,  and  of  her  previous  contempt  of  the  subject. 

A  political  exposition  devoid  of  imagery  was  given  to  her 
next  day  on  the  sunny  South-western  terrace  of  Mount 
Laurels,  when  it  was  only  by  mentally  translating  it  into 
imagery  that  she  could  advance  a  step  beside  her  intellectual 
guide ;  and  she  was  ashamed  of  the  volatility  of  her  ideas. 
She  was  constantly  comparing  Mr.  Austin  and  Xevil  Beau- 
champ,  seeing  that  the  senior  and  the  junior  both  talked  to 
her  with  the  familiar  recognition  of  her  understanding  which 
was  a  compliment  without  the  gross  corporeal  phrase.  But 
now  she  made  another  discovery,  that  should  have  been  infi- 
nitely mo're  of  a  compliment,  and  it  was  bewildering,  if  not 
repulsive  to  her  : — could  it  be  credited  ?  Mr.  Austin  was  a 
firm  believer  in  new  and  higher  destinies  for  women.  He 
went  farther  than  she  could  concede  the  right  of  human 
speculation  to  go ;  he  was,  in  fact,  as  Radical  there  as  Nevil 
Beauchamp  politically  ;  and  would  not  the  latter  innovator 
stare,  perchance  fi^own  conservatively,  at  a  prospect  of  woman 
taking  council,  in  council,  with  men  upon  public  affairs,  like 
the  women  in  the  Germania !  Mr.  Austin,  if  this  time  he 
talked  in  earnest,  \/deemed  that  Englishwomen  were  on  the 
road  to  win  such  a  promotion,  and  would  win  it  ultimately. 


242  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEE. 

He  said  soberly  tliat  lie  saw  more  certain  indications  of  tlio 
reality  of  progress  among  women  than  any  at  present  shown 
by  men.  And  he  was  professedly  temperate.  He  was  but 
for  opening  avenues  to  the  means  of  livelihood  for  them,  and 
leaving  it  to  their  strength  to  conquer  the  position  they 
might  wish  to  win.  His  belief  that  they  would  do  so  was 
the  revolutionary  sign. 

"Are  there  points  of  likeness  between  Radicals  and  Tories?" 
she  inquired. 

"  I  suspect  a  cousinship  in  extremes,"  he  answered. 

"  If  one  might  be  present  at  an  argument !"  said  she. 

"  We  have  only  to  meet  to  fly  apart  as  wide  as  the  Poles," 
Mr.  Austin  rejoined. 

But  she  had  not  spoken  of  a  particular  person  to  m.eet 
him  ;  and  how,  then,  had  she  betrayed  herself  ?  She  fancied 
he  looked  unwontedly  arch  as  he  resumed : 

"  The  end  of  the  argument  would  see  us  each  entrenched 
in  his  party.  Suppose  me  to  be  telling  your  Radical  friend 
such  truisms  as  that  we  English  have  not  grown  in  a  day, 
and  were  not  originally  made  free  and  equal  by  decree  ;  that 
we  have  grown,  and  must  continue  to  grow,  by  the  aid  and 
the  development  of  our  strength  ;  that  ours  is  a  fairly  legible 
history,  and  a  fair  example  of  the  good  atid  the  bad  in  human 
growth ;  that  his  landowner  and  his  peasant  have  no  clear 
case  of  right  and  wrong  to  divide  them,  one  being  the  de- 
scendant of  strong  men,  the  other  of  weak  ones ;  and  that 
the  former  may  sink,  the  latter  may  rise — there  is  no  artifi- 
ticial  obstruction;  and  if  it  is  difficult  to  rise,  it  is  easy  to 
sink.  Your  Radical  friend,  who  would  bring  them  to  a  level 
by  proclamation,  could  not  adopt  a  surer  method  for  destroy- 
ing the  manhood  of  a  people  :  he  is  for  doctoring  wooden 
men,  and  I  for  not  letting  our  stout  English  be  cut  down 
short  as  Laplanders  ;  he  would  have  them  in  a  forcing  house, 
and  I  in  open  aii',  as  hitherto.  Do  y(  u  perceive  a  discussion? 
and  you  apprehend  the  nature  of  it.  We  have  nerves.  That 
is  why  it  is  better  for  men  of  extremely  opposite  opinions 
not  to  meet.  I  dare  say  Radicalism  has  a  function,  and  so 
long  as  it  respects  the  laws  I  am  ready  to  encounter  it  where 
it  cannot  be  avoided.     Pardon  my  prosing." 

"Recommend  me  some  hard  books  to  study  through  the 
Winter,"  said  Cecilia,  refreshed  by  a  discourse  that  touched 
no  emotions,  as  by  a  febrifuge.     Could  Nevil  reply  to  it  ? 


A  YOUNG  lady's  HEART  AND  INTELLECT.  243 

She  fancied  him  replying,  with  that  wild  head  of  his — wildest 
of  natures.  She  fancied  also  that  her  wish  was  like  Mr. 
Austin's  not  to  meet  him.     She  was  enjoying  a  little  rest. 

It  was  not  quite  generous  in  Mr.  Austin  to  assume  that 
*  her  Radical  friend '  had  been  prompting  her.  However, 
she  thanked  him  in  her  heart  for  the  calm  he  had  given  her. 
To  be  able  to  imagine  Nevil  Beauchamp  intellectually  erratic-^ 
was  a  tonic  satisfaction  to  the  proud  young  lady,  ashamed 
of  a  bondage  that  the  bracing  and  pointing  of  her  critical 
powers  helped  her  to  forget.  She  had  always  preferred  the 
society  of  men  of  Mr.  Austin's  age.  How  old  was  he  ?  Her 
father  would  know.  And  why  was  he  unmarried  ?  A  light 
frost  had  settled  on  the  hair  about  his  temples  ;  his  forehead 
was  lightly  v^rinkled  ;  but  his  mouth  and  smile,  and  his  eyes, 
were  lively  as  a  young  man's,  with  more  in  tbem.  His  age 
must  be  something  less  than  fifty.  0  for  peace  !  she  sighed. 
When  he  stepped  into  his  carriage,  and  sto(jd  up  in  it  to 
wave  adieu  to  her,  she  thouo-ht  his  face  and  figure  a  perfect 
example  of  an  English  gentleman  in  his  prime. 

Captain  Baskelett  requested  the  favour  of  five  minutes  of 
conversation  with  Miss  Halkett  before  he  followed  Mr.  Austin, 
on  his  way  to  Steynham. 

She  returned  from  that  colloquy  to  her  father  and  Mr. 
Tuckham.  The  colonel  looked  straight  in  her  face,  with  an 
elevation  of  the  brows.  To  these  points  of  interrogation 
she  answered  with  a  placid  fall  of  her  eyelids.  He  sounded 
a  note  of  ajDprobation  in  his  throat. 

All  the  company  having  departed,  Mr.  Tuckham  for  the 
first  time  spoke  of  his  interview  with  his  kinsman  Beau- 
champ.  Yesterday  evening  he  had  slurred  it,  as  if  he  had 
nothing  to  relate,'  except  the  finding  of  an  old  schoolfellow 
at  Dr.  Shrapnel's  named  Lydiard,  a  man  of  ability  fool 
enough  to  have  turned  author  on  no  income.  But  that  which 
had  appeared  to  Miss  Halkett  a  wp^nt  of  observancy,  became 
attributable  to  depth  of  character  on  its  being  clear  that  ho 
had  waited  for  the  departure  of  the  transient  guests  of  the 
house,  to  pour  forth  his  impressions  without  holding  up  his 
kinsman  to  public  scorn.  He  considered  Shrapnel  mad  and 
Beauchamp  mad.  No  such  grotesque  old  monster  as  Dr. 
Shrapnel  had  he  seen  in 'the  course  of  his  travels.  He  had 
ne-ver  listened  to  a  madman  running  loose  who  was  at  all  up 
to  Beauchamp.     At  a  loss  for  words  to  paint  him,  he  said ; 

e2 


244 

"  Beaucliamp  seems  to  have  a  head  like  a  firework  mamifac- 
tory,  he's  perfectly  pyrocephalic."  For  an  example  of  Dr. 
Shrapnel's  talk:  "I  happened,"  said  Mr.  Tuckham,  "casually, 
meaning  no  harm,  and  not  supposing  I  was  throwing  a  lighted 
match  on  powder,  to  mention  the  word  Providence.  I  found 
nijj;self  immediately  confronted  by  Shrapnel — overtopped,  I 
should  say.  He  is  a  lank  giant  of  about  seven  feet  in  height; 
the  kind  of  show  man  that  used  to  go  about  in  caravans  over 
the  country  ;  and  he  began  rocking  over  me  like  a  poplar  in 
a  gale,  and  cries  out :  '  Stay  there  !  away  with  that !  Pro- 
vidence ?  Can  you  set  a  thought  on  Providence,  not  seeking 
to  propitiate  it  ?  And  have  you  not  there  the  damning  proof 
that  you  are  at  the  foot  of  an  Idol  ?' — The  old  idea  about  a 
special  Providence,  I  suppose.  These  fellows  have  nothing 
new  but  their  trimmings.  And  he  went  on  with:  'Ay,  in- 
visible,'and  his  arm  chopping,  'but  an  Idol!  an  Idol!' — I 
was  to  think  of  '  nought  but  Laws.'  He  admitted  there 
might  be  one  above  the  Laws.  '  To  realize  him  is  to  fry  the 
brains  in  their  pan,'  sa^'s  he,  and  struck  his  forehead  a  slap: 
and  off  he  walked  down  the  garden,  with  his  hands  at  his 
coat-tails.  I  venture  to  say  it  may  be  taken  for  a  proof  of 
incipient^insanity  to  care  to  hear  such  a  fellow  twice.  And 
Beaucliamp  holds  him  up  for  a  sage  and  a  prophet !" 
"  He  is  a  very  dangerous  dog,"  said  Colonel  Halkett. 
"  The  best  of  it  is — and  I  take  this  for  the  strongest  pos- 
sible proof  that  Beauchamp  is  mad — Shrapnel  stands  for  an 

advocate  of  inoraJlty  against  him.     I'll  speak  of  it " 

Mr.  Tuckham  nodded  to  the  colonel,  who  said  :  "  Speak 
out.  "^  My  daughter  has  been  educated  for  a  woman  of  the 
world." 

"Well,  sir,  it's  nothing  to  offend  a  young  lady's  ears. 
Beauchamp  is  for  socially  enfranchising  the  sex — that  is  all. 
Quite  enough  Not  a  whit  politically.  "^Love  is  to  be  the 
test :  and  if  a  lady  ceases  to  love  her  husband  ....  if  she 
sets  her  fancy  elsewhere,  she's  bound  to  leave  him.  The 
laws  are  tyrannical,  our  objections  are  cowardly.  Well,  this 
Dr.  Shrapnel  harangued  about  society ;  and  men  as  well  as 
women  are  to  sacrifice  their  passions  on  that  altar.  If  he 
could  burlesque  himself  it  would  be  in  coming  out  as  a  cleric 
—the  old  Pagan!" 
"  Did  he  convince  Captain  Beauchamp  ?"  the  colonel  asked, 


A  YOUNG  lady's  HEART  AND  INTELLECT.  C45 

manifestly  for  his  daughter  to  hear  the  reply ;  which  was  : 


Oh 


lear,  no 


"  Were  you  able  to  gather  from  Captain  Beauchamp's 
remarks  whether  he  is  much  disappointed  by  the  result  of 
the  election  ?"  said  Cecilia. 

Mr.  Tuckham  could  tell  her  only  that  Captain  Beauchamp 
was  incensed  against  an  elector  named  Tomlinson  for  with- 
drawing a  promised  vote  on  account  of  lying  rumours,  and 
elated  by  the  conquest  of  a  Mr.  Carpendike,  who  was  rec- 
koned a  tough  one  to  drag  by  the  neck.  "  The  only  sane 
people  in  the  house  are  a  Miss  Denham  and  the  cook  :  I 
lunched  there,"  Mr.  Tuckham  nodded  approvingly.  "  Lyd- 
iard  must  be  mad.  What  he's  wasting  his  time  there  for 
I  can't  gues's.  He  says  he's  engaged  there  in  writing  a  pre- 
fatory essay  to  a  new  publication  of  Harry  Denham's  poems 
— whoever  that  may  be.  \J  And  why  writing  it  there  ?  I 
don't  like  it.  He  ought  to  be  earning  his  bread.  He'll  be 
sure  to  be  borrowing  money  by-and-by.  We've  got  ten 
thousand  too  many  fellows  writing  already,  and  they've  seen 
a  few  inches  of  the  world,  on  the  Continent !  He  can  write. 
But  it's  all  unproductive — dead  weight  on  the  country,  these 
fellows  with  their  writings  !  He  says  Beauchamp's  praise 
of  Miss  Denham  is  quite  deserved.  He  tells  me 'that,  at 
great  peril  to  herself — and  she  nearly  had  her  arm  broken 
by  a  stone — she  saved  Shrapnel  from  rough  usage  on  the 
election-day." 

"  Hum  !"  Colonel  Halkett  grunted  significantly. 

"  So  I  thought,"  Mr.  Tuckham  responded.  "  One  doesn't 
want  the  man  to  be  hurt,  but  he  ought  to  be  put  doAvn  in 
some  way.  My  belief  is  he's  a  Fire- worshipper.  I  warrant 
I  would  extinguish  him  if  he  came  before  me.  He's  an 
incendiary,  at  any  rate." 

"Do  you  think,"  said  Cecilia,  "that  Captain  Beauchamp 
is  now  satisfied  with  his  experience  of  politics  P" 

"  Dear  me,  no,"  said  Mr.  Tuckham.  "  It's  the  opening  of  a 
campaign.  He's  off  to  the  North,  after  he  has  been  to  Sussex 
and  Bucks.  He's  to  be  at  it  all  his  life.  One  thing  he 
shows  common  sense  in.  If  I  heard  him  once  I  heard  him 
say  half-a-dozen  times,  that  he  must  have  money : — '  I  must 
have  money  f  And  so  he  must  if  he's  to  head  the  Radicals. 
He  wants  to  start  a  newspaper  !  Is  he  likely  to  get  money 
from  his  uncle  Romfrey  ?" 


246  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  jS'ot  for  his  present  plan  of  campaign."  Colonel  Halkett 
enunciated  the  military  word  sarcastically.  "  Let's  hope  he 
won't  get  money." 

"  He  says  he  must  have  it." 

"Who  is  to  stand  and  rleliver,  then?" 

"  I  don't  know  ;  I  only  repeat  what  he  says  :  unless  he  has 
an  eye  on  my  Aunt  Beauchamp  ;  and  I  doubt  his  luck  there, 
if  he  wants  money  for  political  campaigning." 

"  Money  !"  Colonel  Halkett  ejaculated. 

That  word  too  was  in  the  heart  of  the  heiress. 

Nevil  must  have  money  !  Could  he  have  said  it  ?  Ordi- 
nary  men  might  say  or  think  it  inoffensively;  Captain 
Baskelctt,  for  instance  :   but  not  N"evil  Beauchampv 

Captain  Baskelett,  as  she  had  conveyed  the  infoi'mation  to 
her  father  for  his  comfort  in  the  dumb  domestic  language 
familiar  between  them  on  these  occasions,  had  p^'oposed  to 
her  unavailingly.  Italian  and  English  gentlemen  were  in 
the  list  of  her  rejected  suitors  :  and  hitherto  she  had  seen 
them  come  and  go,  one  might  say,  from  a  watchtower  in  the 
skies.  Xone  of  them  was  the  ideal  she  waited  for :  what 
their  feelings  were,  their  wishes,  their  aims,  she  had  not 
reflected  on.  They  dotted  the  landscape  beneath  the  un- 
assailable heights,  busy  after  their  fashion,  somewhat 
quaint,  much  like  the  pigmy  husbandmen  in  the  fields  were 
to  the  giant's  daughter,  who  had  more  curiosity  than  Cecilia. 
But  Nevil  Beauchamp  had  compelled  her  to  quit  her  lofty 
station,  putted. her  low  as  the  littlest  of  women  that  throb 
and  flush  at  one  man's  footstep  :  and  being  well  able  to  read 
th'e  nature  and  aspii-afioiis~?5f"tTaptain  Baskelett,  it  was  with 
the  knowledge  of  her  having  been  proposed  to  as  heiress  of 
a  great  fortune  that  she  chanced  to  hear  of  Nevil's  resolve 
to  have  money.  If  he  did  say  it !  And  was  anything  like- 
lier ?  was  anything  unlikelier  ?  His  foreign  love  denied  to 
him,  why,  now  he  devoted  himself  to  money  :  money — the 
last  consideration  of  a  man  so  single-mindedly  generous  as 
he  !  But  he  must  have  mone}^  to  pursue  his  contest !  But 
would  he  forfeit  the  truth  in  him  for  money  for  any  pur- 
pose ? 

The  debate  on  this  question  grew  as  incessant  as  the 
thought  of  him. 

Was  it  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  madness  of  the  pursuit 
of  his  political  chimaera  might  change  his  character  ? 


A  YOUNG  lady's  heart  AND  INTELLECT.  247 

She  hoped  he  would  not  come  to  Mount  Laurels,  thinking 
she  should  esteem  him  less  if  he  did  ;  knowing  that  her 
defence  of  him,  on  her  own  behalf,  against  herself,  depended 
now  on  an  esteem  lodged  perhaps  in  her  wilfulness.  Yet  if 
he  did  not  come,  what  an  Arctic  world  !.  ;  ^      /, 

^He  came  on  a  Xovember  afternoon  when  the  woods  glowed, 
and  no  sun.  The  day  was  narrowed  in  mist  from  earth  to 
heaven  :  a  moveless  and  possessing  mist.  It  left  space  over- 
head for  one  wreath  of  high  cloud  mixed  with  touches  of 
washed  red  upon  moist  blue,  still  as  the  mist,  insensibly 
passing  into  it.  Wet  webs  crossed  the  grass,  chill  in  the 
feeble  light.  The  last  flowers  of  the  garden  bowed  to  decay. 
Dead  leaves,  red  and  brown  and  spotted  yellow,  fell  straight 
around  the  stems  of  trees,  lying  thick.  The  glow  was 
universal,  and  the  chill. 

Cecilia  sat  sketching  the  scene  at  a  window  of  her  study, 
on  the  level  of  the  drawing-room,  and  he  stood  by  outside 
till  she  saw  him.  He  greeted  her  through  the  glass,  then 
went  round  to  the  hall  door,  giving  her  time  to  recover,  if 
onh'  her  heart  had  been  less  shaken. 

Their  meeting  was  like  the  features  of  the  day  she  set  her 
brush  to  picture :  characteristic  of  a  season  rather  than 
cheerless  in  tone,  though  it  breathed  little  cheer.  Is  there 
not  a  pleasure  in  contemplating  that  which  is  characteristic? 
Her  unfinished  sketch  recalled  him  after  he  had  gone  :  he 
lived  in  it,  to  startle  her  again,  and  bid  her  heart  gallop  and 
her  cheeks  burn.  The  question  occurred  to  her  :/May  not 
one  love,  not  craving  to  be  beloved  ?  Such  a  love  does  not 
sap  our  pride,  but  supports  it" •"  increases  rather  than 
iiminishes  our  noble  self-esteeui;  ~  To  attain  such  a  love  the 
Qiartyrs  writhed  up  to  the  crown  of  saints.  For  a  while 
Cecilia  revelled  in  the  thought  that  she  could  love  in  this 
most  saintlike  manner.  How  they  fled,  the  sordid  ideas  of 
him  which  accused  him  of  the  world's  one  passion,  and 
AY  ere  transferred  to  her  own  bosom  in  reproach  that  she 
should  have  imagined  them  existing  in  his  !  He  talked 
simply  and  sweetly  of  his  defeat,  of  time  wasted  away  from 
the  canvass,  of  loss  of  money  :  and  he  had  little  to  spare, 
he  said.  The  water-colour  drawing  interested  him.  He 
said  he  envied  her  that  power  of  isolation,  and  the  eye  for 
beauty  in  every  season.  She  opened  a  portfolio  of  Mr. 
Tackham's  water-colour  drawings  in  every  clime  ;  scenes  of 


248  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Europe,  Asia,  and  the  Americas  ;  and  lie  was  to  be  excused 
for  not  caring  to  look  through  them.  His  remark,  that  they 
seemed  hard  and  dogged,  was  not  so  unjust,  she  thought, 
smiling  to  think  of  the  critic  criticized.  His  wonderment 
that  a  young  man  like  his  Lancastrian  cousin  should  be  '  an 
unmitigated  Tory  '  was  perhaps  natural. 

Cecilia  said*  "  Yet  I  cannot  discern  in  him  a  veneration 
for  aristocracy." 

"  That's  not  wanted  for  modern  Toryism,"  said  N^evil. 
""One  may  venerate  old  families  when  they  show  the  blood 
of  the  founder,  and  are  not  dead  wood!  I  do.  And  I 
believe  the  blood  of  the  founder,  though  the  man  may  have 
been  a  savage  and  a  robber,  had  in  his  day  finer  elements  in 
it  than  were  common.  But  let  me  say  at  a  meeting  that  I 
respect  true  aristocracy,  I  hear  a  growl  -and  a  hiss  begin- 
ning :  why  ?  Don't  judge  them  hastily  :  because  the  people 
have  seen  the  aristocracy  opposed  to  the  cause  that  was 
weak,  and  only  submitting  to  it  when  it  commanded  them 
to  resist  at  their  peril  ;  clinging  to  traditions,  and  not  any- 
where standing  for  humanity*:  much,  more  a  herd  than  the 
people  themselves.  Ah  !  well,  we  won't  talk  of  it  now.  I 
say  that  is  no  aristocracy,  if  it  does  not  head  the  people  in 
virtue — military,  political,  national :  I  mean  the  qualities 
required  by  the  times  for  leadership.  I  won't  bother  you 
with  my  ideas  now.  I  love  to  see  you  paint-brush  in 
hand." 

Her  brush  trembled  on  the  illumiijation  of  a  scarlet 
maple.  "  In  this  country  we  were  not  oi'iginally  made  free 
and  equal  by  decree,  Xevil." 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  and  I  cast  no  blame  on  our  farthest 
ancestors." 

It  struck  her  that  this  might  be  an  outline  of  a  reply  to 
Mr.  Austin. 

"  So  you  have  been  thinking  over  it  ?"  he  asked. 

"Not  to  conclusions,"  she  said,  trying  to  retain  in  her 
mind  the  evanescent  suggestiveness  of  his  previous  remark, 
and  vexed  to  find  herself  upon  nothing  but  a  devious  phos- 
phorescent trail  there. 

Her  forehead  betrayed  the  unwonted  mental  action.  He 
cried  out  for  pardon.  "  What  right  have  I  to  bother  you  ? 
I  see  it  annoys  you.  The  truth  is,  I  came  for  peace.  I 
think  of  you  when  they  talk  of  English  homes." 


A  YOUNG  lady's  heart  AND  INTELLECT.  249 

She  feU  then  that  lie  was  comparing  her  home  with 
anotlier,  a  foreign  home.  After  he  had  gone  she  felt  that 
there  had  been  a  comparison  of  two  persons.  She  remem- 
bered one  of  his  observations :  "  Few  women  seem  to  have 
courage  ;"  when  his  look  at  her  was  for  an  instant  one  of 
scrutiny  or  calculation.  Under  a  look  like  that  we  perceive 
that  we  are  being  weighed.  She  had  no  clue  to  tell  her 
what  it  signified. 

'N  Glorious  and  solely  glorious  love,  that  has  risen  above 
emotion,  quite  independent  of  craving  !  That  is  to  be  the 
birdt)f  upper  air,"  poised  on  his  wings.  It  is  a  home  in  the 
sky.  Cecilia  took  "possession  of  it  systematically,  not  qnes- 
tioning'  whether  it  would  last ;  like  one  who  is  too  ena- 
moured of  the  habitation  to  object  to  be  a  tenant-at-will.  -JjE 
it  was"  cold,  it  was  in  recompense  immeasuiably  lofty,  a 
star-giTdlctl'placeY  and  dwelling  in  it  she  could  avow  to 
"""herself  the  ^eci^t'~whtch'  was  liow  working  self -deception, 
and  still  preserve  her  pride  unwounded.  Her  womanly 
pride,  she  would  have  said  in  vindication  of  it :  but  Cecilia 
Halkett's  pride  went  far  beyond  the  merely  womanly. 

Thus  pho  was  assisted  to  endure  a  journey  down  to  Wales, 
Avhere  Xevil  would  surely  not  be.  She  passed  a  Winter 
without  seeing  him.  She  returned  to  Mount  Laurels  from 
London  at  Easter,  and  went  on  a  visit  to  Steynham,  and 
back  to  London,  having  sight  of  him  nowhere,  still  firm  iii 
tlie^thoughttha-t^she  loved  ethereally,  to  bless,  forgive,- direct, 
~  encourage,  pray  for  him,  imperspiially^i_^  She  read  certain 
speeches  delivered  by  lN"evil  at  assemblies  of  Liberals  or 
Radicals,  which  were  reported  in  papers  in  the  easy  irony 
of  the  style  of  here  and  there  a  sentence,  here  and  there  a 
summary :  salient  quotations  interspersed  with  running 
abstracts :  a  style  terrible  to  friends  of  the  speaker  so 
reported,  overwhelming  if  they  differ  in  opinion  :  yet  her 
charity  was  a  match  for  it.  She  was  obliged  to  have 
recourse  to  charity,  it  should  be  observed.  Her  father  drew 
her  attention  to  the  spectacle  of  R.  C.  S.  Nevil  Beauchamp, 
Commander  R.X.,  fighting  those  reporters  with  lettei'S  in 
the  newspapers,  and  the  dry  editorial  comment  flanked  by 
three  stars  on  the  left.  He  was  shocked  to  see  a  gentleman 
writing  such  letters  to  the  papers.  "  But  one  thing  hanga 
on  another,"  said  he. 

"  But  you  seem  angry  with  Nevil,  pa23a,"  said  she. 


250  BEAUCHAMP  S  CAREER. 

"  I  do  hate  a  turbulent,  restless  fellow,  mj  dear,"  the 
colonel  burst  out. 

"  Papa,  he  has  really  been  unfairly  reported." 

Cecilia  laid  three  privately-printed  full  reports  of  Com- 
mander Beauchamp's  speeches  (very  carefully  corrected  by 
him)  before  her  father. 

He  suflered  his  eye  to  run  down  a  page.  "  Is  it  possible 
you  read  this  ? — this  trash  ! — dangerous  folly,  I  call  it," 

Cecilia's  reply,  "  In  the  interests  of  justice,  I  do,"  was 
meant  to  express  her  pure  impartiality.  By  a  toleration  of 
what  is  detested  we  expose  ourselves  to  the  keenness  of  an 
adverse  mind. 

"  Does  he  write  to  you,  too  ?"  said  the  colonel. 

She  answered :  "  Oh,  no ;  I  am  not  a  politician." 

"  He  seems  to  have  expected  you  to  read  those  tracts  of 
his,  though." 

"  Yes,  I  think  he  would  convert  me  if  he  could,"  said 
Cecilia. 

"  Though  you're  not  a  politician." 

"  He  relies  on  the  views  he  delivers  in  public,  rather  than 
on  writing  to  persuade;  that  was  my  meaning,  papa." 

"  Verj^  well,"  said  the  colonel,  not  caring  to  show  his 
anxiety. 

Mr.  Tuckham  dined  with  them  frequently  in  London. 
This  gentleman  betrayed  his  accomplishments  one  by  one. 
He  sketched,  and  was  no  artist;  he  planted,  and  was  no 
gardener ;  he  touched  the  piano  neatly,  and  was  no  musician ; 
he  sang,  and  he  had  no  voice.  Apparently  he  tried  his  hand 
at  anything,  for  the  privilege  of  speaking  decisively  upon  all 
things.  He  accompanied  the  colonel  and  his  daughter  on  a 
day's  expedition  to  Mrs.  Beauchamp.  on  the  Upper  Thames, 
and  they  agreed  that  he  shone  to  great  advantage  in  her 
society.  Mrs.  Beauchamp  said  she  had  seen  her  great- 
nephew  Nevil,  but  Avithout  a  comment  on  his  conduct  or  his 
person ;  grave  silence.  Reflecting  on  it,  Cecilia  grew  indig- 
nant at  the  thought  that  Mr.  Tuckham  might  have  been 
acting  a  sinister  part.  Mrs.  Beauchamp  alluded  to  a  news- 
paper article  of  her  favourite  great-nephew  Blackburn, 
written,  Cecilia  knew  through  her  father,  to  controvert  some 
tremendous  proposition  of  Nevil's.  That  was  writing,  Mrs. 
Beauchamp  said.     "  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  fearing  a  con- 


A  YorxG  lady's  heart  and  intellect.  251 

flict,  so  long  as  we  have  stout  defenders.  I  rather  like  it," 
she  said. 

The  colonel  entertained  Mrs.  Beauchamp,  while  Mr. 
Tuckham  led  Miss  Halkett  over  the  garden.  Cecilia  con- 
sidered that  his  remarks  upon  N'evil  were  insolenlJ. 

"  Seriously,  Miss  Halkett,  to  take  him  at  his  best,  he  is  a 
very  good  fellow,  I  don't  doubt ;  I  am  told  so ;  and  a  capital 
fellow  among  men,  a  good  friend  and  not  a  bad  boonfellow, 
and  for  that  matter,  the  smoking-room  is  a  better  test  than 
the  drawing-room  ;  all  he  wants  is  emphatically  ^school — 
school — school.  I  have  recommended  the  simple  iteration 
of  that  one  word  in  answer  to  him  at  his  meetings,  and  the 
printing  of  it  as  a  foot-note  to  his  letters." 

Cecilia's  combative  spirit  precipitated  her  to  say,  "  I  hear 
the  mob  in  it  shouting  Captain  Beauchamp  down." 

"Ay,"  said  ]Mr.  Tuckham,  "it  would  be  setting  the  mob 
to  shout  wisely  at  last." 

"  The  mob  is  a  wild  beast." 

"  Then  we  should  hear  wisdom  coming  out  of  the  mouth 
of  the  wild  beast." 

"  Men  have  the  phrase,  '  fair  play.'  " 

"  Fair  play,  I  say,  is  not  applicable  to  a  man  who  de- 
liberately goes  about  to  stir  the  wild  beast.  He  is  laughed 
at,  plucked,  hustled,  and  robbed,  by  those  who  deafen  him 
with  their  '  plaudits  ' — their  roars.  Did  you  see  his  adver- 
tisement of  a  great-coat,  lost  at  some  rapscallion  gathering 
down  in  the  North,  near  my  part  of  the  country  ?  A  great- 
coat and  a  packet  of  letters.  He  offers  a  reward  of  £10. 
But  that's  honest  robbery  compared  with  the  bleeding  he'll 
get." 

"  Do  you  know  Mr.  Seymour  Austin  ?"  Miss  Halkett  asked 
him. 

"  I  met  him  once  at  your  father's  table.     Why  ?*' 

"  I  think  you  would  like  to  listen  to  him." 

"  Yes,  my  fault  is  not  listening  enough,"  said  Mr. 
Tuckham. 

He  was  capable  of  receiving  correction. 

Her  father  told  her  he  was  indebted  to  Mr.  Tuckham  past 
payment  in  coin,  for  services  rendered  by  him  on  a  trying 
occasion  among  the  miners  in  Wales  during  the  first  spring 
month.      "  I  dare  say  he  can  speak  effectively  to  miners," 


252  BE AUCH amp's  career. 

Cecilia    said,   outvying   the    contemptuous   young   man    in 
superciliousness,  but  witli  effort  and  not  with  satisfaction. 

She  left  London  in  July,  two  days  before  her  father  could 
be  induced  to  return  to  Mount  Laurels.  Feverish,  and 
strangely  subject  to  caprices  now,  she  chose  the  longer  way 
round  by  Sussex,  and  alighted  at  the  station  near  Steynham 
to  call  on  Mrs.  Culling,  whom  she  knew  to  be  at  the  Hall, 
preparing  it  for  Mr.  Romfrey's  occupation.  In  imitation  of 
her  father  she  was  Rosamund's  fast  friend,  though  she  had 
never  quite  realized  her  position,  and  did  not  thoroughly 
understand  her.  Would  it  not  please  her  father  to  hear  that 
she  had  chosen  the  tedious  route  for  the  purpose  of  visiting 
this  lady,  whose  champion  he  was  ?  So  she  went  to  Steyn- 
ham, and  for  hours  she  heard  talk  of  no  one,  of  nothing,  but 
her  frieUd  Nevil.  Cecilia  was  on  her  guard  against  Rosa- 
mund's defence  of  his  conduct  in  Finance.  The  declaration 
that  there  had  been  no  misbehaviour  at  all  could  not  be 
accepted  ;  but  the  news  of  Mr.  Romfrey's  having  installed 
Nevil  in  Holdesbury  to  manage  that  property,  and  of  his 
having  mooted  to  her  father  the  question  of  an  alliance 
between  her  and  Nevil,  was  wonderful.  Rosamund  could 
not  say  what  answer  her  father  had  made:  hardly  favour- 
able, Cecilia  supposed,  since  he  had  not  spoken  of  the  cir- 
cumstance to  her.  But  Mr.  Romfrey's  influence  with  him 
would  certainly  be  powerful.  It  was  to  be  assumed,  also, 
that  ISTevil  had  been  consulted  by  his  uncle.  Rosamund 
said  full-heartedly  that  this  alliance  had  for  years  been  her 
life's  desire,  and  then  she  let  the  matter  pass,  nor  did  she 
once  look  at  Cecilia  searchingly,  or  seem  to  wish  to  probe 
her.  Cecilia  disagi-eed  with  Rosamund  on  an  insignificant 
point  in  relation  to  something  Mr.  Romfrey  and  Captain 
Baskelett  had  done,  and,  as  far  as  she  could  recollect  subse- 
quentl}^,  there  was  a  packet  of  letters,  or  a  pocket-book 
containing  letters  of  Nevil's  which  he  had  lost,  and  which 
had  been  forwarded  to  Mr.  Romfrey  ;  for  the  pocket-book 
was  originally  his,  and  his  address  was  printed  inside.  But 
among  these  letters  was  one  from  Dr.  Shrapnel  to  Nevil  :  a 
letter  so  horrible  that  Rosamund  frowned  at  the  reminis- 
cence of  it,  holding  it  to  be  too  horrible  for  the  quotation  of 
a  sentence.  She  owned  she  had  forgotten  any  three  con- 
secutive words.  Her  known  dislike  of  Captain  Baskelett, 
however,  was  insuihcient  to  make  her  see  tl  at  it  was  un- 


THE  EPISTLE  OP  DR.  SHEAPNEt,.  253 

justifiable  in  bim  to  mn  about  London  reading  it,  with 
comments  of  the  cruellest.  Rosamund's  greater  detestation 
of  Dr.  Shrapnel  blinded  her  to  the  offence  committed  bj  the 
man  she  would  otherwise  have  been  very  ready  to  scorn.  So 
small  did  the  circumstance  appear  to  Cecilia,  notwithstand- 
ing her  gentle  opposition  at  the  time  she  listened  to  it,  that 
she  never  thought  of  mentioning  it  to  her  father,  and  only 
remembered  it  when  Captain  Baskelett,  with  Lord  Palmet 
in  his  company,  presented  himself  at  Mount  Laurels,  and 
proposed  to  the  colonel  to  read  to  him  "  a  letter  from  that 
scoundrelly  old  Shrapnel  to  Nevil  Beauchamp,  upon  v/omen, 
wives,  thrones,  republics,  British  loyalty,  et  cetera," — an  et 
cetera  that  rolled  a  series  of  tremendous  reverberations 
down  the  list  of  all  things  held  precious  by  freeboru 
Englishmen. 

She  would  have  prevented  the  reading.     But  the  colonel 
would  have  it. 

"  E/cad  on,"  said  he.     "Mr.  Romfrey  saw  no  harm." 
Captain  Baskelett  held  up  Dr.  Shrapnel's  letter  to  Com- 
mander Beauchamp,  at  about  half  a  yard's  distance  on  the 
level  of  his  chin,  as  a  great-chested  singer  in  a  concert-room 
holds  his  music- scroll. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  EPISTLE  OF  DE.  SHRAPNEL  TO  COMMANDER  BEAUCHAMP. 

Before  we  give  ear  to  the  recital  of  Dr.  Shi^apnel's  letter 
to  his  pupil  in  politics  by  the  mouth  of  Captain  Baskelett, 
it  is  necessary  to  defend  this  gentleman,  as  he  would  hand- 
somely have  defended  himself,  from  the  charge  that  he 
entertained  ultimate  designs  in  regard  to  the  really  abomin- 
able scrawl,  which  was  like  a  child's  drawing  of  ocean  with 
here  and  there  a  sail  capsized,  and  excited  his  disgust  almost 
as  much  as  did  the  contents  his  great  indignation.  He  was 
prepared  to  read  it,  and  stood  blown  out  for  the  task,  but  it 
was  temporarily  too  much  for  him.  "  My  dear  Colonel,  look 
at  it,  I  entreat  you,"  he  said,  handing  the  letter  for  exhibi- 
tion, after  fixing  his  eye-glass,  and  dropping  it  in  repulsioa 


254  BEAtTCHAMP'S  CABEER. 

The  common  sentiment  of  mankind  is  offended  by  heterodoxy 
in  mean  attire;  for  there  we  see  the  self-convicted  villain — 
the  criminal  canght  in  the  act ;  we  try  it  and  convict  it  hy 
instinct  without  the  ceremony  of  a  jury  ;  and  so  thoroughly 
aware  of  our  promptitude  in  this  respect  has  our  arch- 
enemy become  since  his  medieval  disgraces  that  his  par- 
ticular advice  to  his  followers  is  now  to  scrupulously  cojiy 
the  Avorld  in  externals  ;  never  to  appear  poorly  clothed,  nor 
to  impart  deceptive  communications  in  Ld,d  handwriting. 
We  can  tell  black  from  white,  and  our  sagacity  has  taught 
him  a  lesson. 

Colonel  Halkett  glanced  at  the  detestable  penmanship. 
Lord  Palmet  did  the  same,  and  cried,  "  Why,  it's  worse  than 
mine  ! " 

Cecilia  had  protested  a,c;-ainst  the  reading  of  the  letter, 
and  she  declined  to  look  at  the  writing.  She  was  enti-eated, 
adjured  to  look,  in  Caplain  Baskelett's  peculiarly  pursuing 
fashion  ;  a  '  nay,  but  you  shall,'  that  she  had  been  subjected 
to  previously,  and  would  have  consented  to  run  like  a  school- 
girl to  escape  from. 

To  resume  the  defence  of  him  :  he  was  a  man  incapable  of 
forming  plots,  because  his  head  would  not  hold  them.  He 
was  an  impulsive  man,  who  could  impale  a  character  of 
either  sex  by  narrating  fables  touching  persons  of  whom  he 
thought  lightly,  and  that  being  done  he  was  devoid  of 
malice,  unless  by  chance  his  feelings  or  his  interests  were  so 
aggrieved  that  his  original  haphazard  impulse  was  bent  to 
embrace  new  circumstances  and  be  the  parent  of  a  line  of 
successive  impulses,  in  the  main  resembling  an  extremely 
far-sighted  plot,  whereat  he  gazed  back  with  fondness,  all 
the  while  protesting  sincerely  his  perfect  innocence  of  any- 
thing of  the  kind.  Circumstances  will  often  interwind  with 
the  moods  of  simply  irritated  men.  In  the  present  instance 
he  could  just  perceive  what  might  immediately  come  of  his 
reading  out  of  this  atrocious  epistle  wherein  Nevil  Beau- 
champ  was  displayed  the  dangling  puppet  of  a  mountebank 
wire-puller,  infidel,  agitator,  leveller,  and  scoundrel.  Cog- 
nizant of  Mr.  Romfrey's  overtures  to  Colonel  Halkett,  he 
traced  them  to  that  scheming  woman  in  the  house  at  Steyn- 
ham,  and  he  was  of  opinion  that  it  was  a  friendly  and  good 
thing  to  do  to  let  the  old  colonel  and  Cissy  Halketf.  know 
Mr.  N'evil  through  a  bit  of  his  correspondence.     This,  then, 


THE  EPISTLE  OP  DR.  SHEAPNEL.  255 

was  a  matter  of  business  and  duty  that  rurnished  an  excuse  for 
his  going  out  of  his  way  to  call  at  Mount  Laiu-els  on  the  old 
familiar  footing,  so  as  not  to  alarm  the  heiress,  A  wari-ior 
accustomed  to  wear  the  burnished  breast  plates  between  Lon- 
don and  Windsor  has,  we  know,  more  need  to  withstand  than 
to  discharge  the  shafts  of  amorous  passion  ;  he  is  indeed,  as 
an  object  of  beautj,  notoriously  compelled  to  be  of  the  fair 
sex  in  his  tactics,  and  must  practise  the  arts  and  whims  of 
nymphs  to  preserve  himself :  and  no  doubt  it  was  the  case 
with  the  famous  Captain  Baskelett,  in  whose  mind  sweit 
ladies  held  the  place  that  the  pensive  politician  gives  to  the 
masses,  dreadful  in  their  hatred,  almost  as  dreadful  in  their 
affection,  '^ut  an  heiress  is  a  distinct  species  among  women  ; 
he  hungered  for  the  heiress  ;  his  elevation  to  Parliament 
made  him  regard  her  as  both  the  ornament  and  the  prop  of 
his  position ;  and  it  should  be  added  that  his  pride,  all  the 
habits  of  thought  of  a  conqueror  of  women,  had  been  shocked 
by  that  stupefying  rejection  of  him  which  Cecilia  had  inti- 
mated to  her  father  with  the  mere  lowering  of  her  eyelids. 
Conceive  the  highest  bidder  at  an  auction  hearing  the  ar  icle 
announce  that  it  will  not  have  him!  Captain  Baskelett 
talked  of  it  everywhere  for  a  month  or  so  : — the  girl  could 
not  know^  her  own  mind,  for  she  suited  him  exactly  !  and 
he  requested  the  world  to  partake  of  his  astonishment. 
Chronicles  of  the  season  in  London  infoi-med  him  that  he 
w^as  not  the  only  fellow  to  whom  the  gates  w'ere  shut.  She 
could  hardly  be  thinking  of  Xevil  ?  However,  let  the  epistle 
be  read.  "  ISTow  for  the  Shrapnel  shot,"  he  nodded  finally 
to  Colonel  Halkett,  expanded  his  bosom,  or  natural  cuirass, 
as  before-mentioned,  and  w^as  vocable  above  the  common 
pitch  : — 

"  '  My  brave  Beauchamp, — On  with  your  mission,  and 
never  a  summing  of  results  in  hand,  nor  thirst  for  prospects, 
nor  countings  upon  harvests ;  for  seed  sow^n  in  faith  day  by 
day  is  the  nightly  harvest  of  the  soul,  and  with  the  soul  we 
work.     With  the  soul  we  see.'  " 

Captain  Baskelett  intervened :  "  Ahem  !  I  beg  to  observe 
that  this  delectable  rubbish  is  underlined  by  old  jS'evil's 
pencil."  He  promised  to  do  a  little  roaring  W'henever  it 
occurred,  and  continued  w4th  ghastly  false  accentuation,  an 


256  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEB. 

intermittent  spriglitliness  and  depression  of  tone  in  the 
wrong  places. 

*'  '  The  soul,'  et  cetera.  Here  we  are  !  '  Desires  to 
realize  our  gains  are  akin  to  tlie  passion  of  usury  ;  these  aro 
tricks  of  the  usurer  to  grasp  his  gold  in  act  and  imagination. 
Have  none  of  them.  Work  at  the  people  !' — At  them,  re- 
mark ! — '  Moveless  do  they  seem  to  you  ?  Why,  so  is  the 
earth  to  the  sowing  husbandman,  and  though  we  cannot 
forecast  a  reaping  season,  we  have  in  history  durable  testi- 
lication  that  our  seasons  come  in  the  souls  of  men,  yea,  as  a 
planet  that  we  have  set  in  motion,  and  faster  and  faster  are 
we  spinning  it,  and  firmer  and  firmer  shall  we  set  it  to  regu- 
larity of  revolution.  That  means  life  P — Shrapnel  roars  : 
you  will  have  iJ^evil  in  a  minute. — 'Recognize  that  now  we 
have  bare  life ;  at  best  for  the  bulk  of  men  the  Saurian 
lizard's  broad  back  soaking  and  roasting  in  primeval  slime  ; 
or  say,  in  the  so-called  teachers  of  men,  as  much  of  life  as 
pricks  the  frog  in  March  to  stir  and  yawn,  and  up  on  a 
flaccid  leap  that  rolls  him  over  some  three  inches  nearer  to 
the  ditchwater  besouglit  by  his  instinct.' 

"  I  ask  you,  did  you  ever  hear  ?  The  flaccid  frog  !  But 
on  Tve  go. 

"  '  Professors,  prophets,  masters,  each  hitherto  has  had  his 
creed  and  system  to  olfer,  good  mayhap  for  the  term ;  and 
each  has  put  it  forth  for  the  truth  everlasting,  to  drive  the 
dagger  to  the  heart  of  time,  and  put  the  axe  to  human 
growth  ! — that  one  circle  of  wisdom  issuing  of  the  experience 
and  needs  of  their  day,  should  act  the  despot  over  all  other 
circles  for  ever ! — so  where  at  first  liorht  shone  to  liofht  the 
yawning  frog  to  his  wet  ditch,  there,  with  the  necessitated 
revolution  of  men's  minds  in  the  course  of  ages,  darkness 
radiates 

"  That's  old  ISTevil.  Upon  my  honour,  I  haven't  a  notion 
of  what  it  all  means,  and  I  don't  believe  the  old  rascal 
Shrajjnel  has  himself.  And  pray  be  patient,  my  dear 
colonel.  You  will  find  him  practical  presently.  I'll  skip, 
if  you  tell  me  to.     Darkness  radiates,  does  it ! 

"  '  The  creed  that  rose  in  heaven  sets  below ;  and  where 
we  had  an  angel  we  have  claw-feet  and  fangs.  Ask  how 
that  is  !  The  creed  is  much  what  it  was  when  the  followers 
diverged  it  from  the  Founder.  But  humanity  is  not  where 
it  was  when  that  creed  was  food  and  guidance.     Creeds  will 


I 


THE  EPISTLE  OF  DR.  SHEAPNEL.  257 

not  die  not  fighting.     We  cannot  root  tliem  ap  oat  of  us 
without  blood.' 

"  He  threatens  blood ! — *  Ours,  my  Beaucliamp,  is  the 
belief  that  humanity  advances  beyond  the  limits  of  creeds, 
is  to  be  tied  to  none.  '^We  reverence  the  I^Iaster  in  his 
teachings  ;  we  behold  the  limits  of  him  in  his  creed — and 
that  is  not  his  work.  We  truly  are  his  disciples,  who  see 
how  far  it  was  in  him  to  do  service  ;  not  they  that  made  of 
liis  creed  a  strait- jacket  for  humanity.  So,  in  our  prayers 
we  dedicate  the  world  to  Grod,  not  calling  him  great  for  a 
title,  no — showing  him  we  know  him  great  in  a  limitless 
world,  lord  of  a  trath  we  tend  to,  have  not  grasped.  I  say 
Prayer  is  good.  I  counsel  it  to  you  again  and  again  :  in  joy, 
in  sickness  of  heart.  The  infidel  will  not  pray ;  the  creed- 
slave  prays  to  the  image  in  his  box.'  " 

"I've  had  enough  !"  Colonel  Halkett  ejaculated. 

"  '  We,'  "  Captain  Baskelett  put  out  his  hand  for  silence 
with  an  inefEable  look  of  entreaty,  for  here  was  Shrapnel's 
hypocrisy  in  full  bloom  :  "  '  we  make  prayer  a  part  of  us, 
praying  for  no  gifts,  no  interventions  ;  through  the  faith  in , 
prayer  opening  the  soul  to  the  undiscerned.  And  take  this,  | 
my  Beaucliamp,  for  the  good  in  prayer,  that  it  makes  us 
repose  on  the  unknown  with  confidence,  makes  us  flexible  to 
change,  makes  us  ready  for  revolution — for  life,  then !  He 
who  has  the  fountain  of  prayer  in  him  will  not  complain  of 
hazards.  '^Pi-ayer  is  the  recognition  of  laws ;  the  soul's  exer- 
cise and  source  of  strength  ;  its  thread  of  conjunction  with 
them.  Prayer  for  an  object  is  the  cajolery  of  an  idol ;  the 
resource  of  superstition.  There  you  misread  it,  Beaucliamp. 
We  that  fight  the  living  world  must  have  the  universal  for 
succour  of  the  truth  in  it.  Cast  forth  the  soul  in  prayer, 
you  meet  the  effluence  of  the  outer  truth,  you  join  with  the 
creative  elements  giving  breath  tp  you ;  and  that  crust  of 
habit  which  is  the  soul's  tomb ;  and  custom,  the  soul's 
tyrant ;  and  pride,  our  volcano-peak  that  sinks  us  in  a 
crater ;  and  fear,  w^hich  plucks  the  feathers  from  the  wings 
of  the  soul  and  sits  it  naked  and  shivering  in  a  vault,  where 
the  passing  of  a  common  hodman's  foot  above  sounds  like 
the  king  of  terrors  coming, — you  are  free  of  them,  you  live 
in  the  day  and  for  the  future,  by  this  exercise  and  discipline 
of  the  soul's  faith.  Me  it  keeps  young  everlastingly,  like 
the  fountain  of  .  .  .  .'  " 


258  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  I  say  I  cannot  sifc  and  bear  any  more  of  it !"  exclaimed 
the  colonel,  chafing  out  of  patience. 

Lord  Palmet  said  to  Miss  Halkett :  "  Isn't  it  like  what  we 
used  to  remember  of  a  sermon  ?" 

Cecilia  waited  for  her  father  to  break  away,  but  Captain 
Baskelett  had  undertaken  to  skip,  and  was  murmuring  in 
sing-song  some  of  the  phrases  that  warned  him  off  :  "  '  His- 
tory— Bible  of  Humanity  ;  .  .  .  .  Permanency — enthusiast's 
dream — despot's  aim — clutch  of  dead  men's  fingers  in  live 
flesh  .  ,  .  .  Man  animal ;  man  angel ;  man  rooted ;  man 
winged:'  ....  Really,  all  this  is  too  bad.  Ah!  here  wo 
are  :  '  At  them  with  outspeaking,  Beauchamp  !'  Here  we 
are,  colonel,  and  you  will  tell  me  whether  you  think  it 
treasonable  or  not.  '  At  them,'  et  cetera  :  '  We  have  signed 
no  convention  to  respect  their ' — he  speaks  of  Englishm.en, 
Colonel  Halkett — '  their  passive  idolatries  ;  a  people  with 
whom  a  mute  conformity  is  as  good  as  worship,  but  a  Avord 
of  dissent  holds  you  up  to  execration  ;  and  only  for  the  free- 
dom won  in  foregone  days  their  hate  would  be  active.  As 
ive  liavG  them  in  their  present  stage,' — old  I^evil's  mark — '  We 
are  not  parties  to  the  tacit  agreement  to  fill  our  mouths  and 
shut  our  eyes.  We  speak  because  it  is  better  they  be  roused 
to  lapidate  us  than  soused  in  their  sty,  with  none  to  lot 
them  hear  they  live  like  swine,  craving  only  not  to  be  dis- 
turbed at  the  trouo'h.  The  relisfion  of  this  vast  En^-lish 
middle-class  ruling  the  land  is  Comfort.  It  is  their  central 
thought ;  their  idea  of  necessity  ;  their  sole  aim.  Whatso- 
ever ministers  to  Comfort — seems  to  belong  to  it — pretends 
to  support  it,  they  yield  their  passive  worship  to.  Whatso- 
ever alarms  it  they  join  to  crush.  There  you  get  at  llioir 
point  of  unity.  They  will  pay  for  the  security  of  Comfort, 
calling  it  national  worship,  or  national  defence,  if  too  much 
money  is  not  subtracted  from  the  means  of  individual  com- 
fort :  if  too  much  foresight  is  not  demanded  for  the  comfort 
of  their  brains.  Have  at  them  there.  Speak.  Moveless  as 
you  find  them,  they  are  not  yet  all  gross  clay,  and  I  say 
again,  the  true  word  spoken  has  its  chance  of  somewhere 
alighting  and  striking  root.  Look  not  to  that.  Seeds  perish 
in  nature;  good  men  fail.  Look  to  the  truth  in  you,  and 
deliver  it,  with  no  afterthought  of  hope,  for  hope  is  dogged 
by  dread ;  we  give  our  courage  as  hostage  for  the  fulfilment 
of  what  we  hope.     Meditate  on  that  transaction.     Hope  is 


THE  EPISTLE  OP  DR.  SHRAPNEL.  250 

for  boys  and  girls,  to  whoin  nature  is  kind.  For  men  to 
hope  is  to  ti'cmble.  Let  prayer — the  soul's  overflow,  the 
heai-t's  resignation — supplant  it  .   .   .   .' 

"  Pardon,  colonel ;  I  forgot  to  roar,  but  old  Xevil  marks 
all  down  that  page  for  encomium,"  said  Captain  Baskelett. 
"  Oh  !  here  we  are.  English  loyalty  is  the  subject.  N^ow, 
pray  attend  to  this,  colonel.  Shrapnel  communicates  to 
Beauchamp  that  if  ten  Beauchamps  were  spouting  over  the 
country  without  intermission  he  might  condescend  to  hope. 
So  on — to  British  loyalty.  We  are,  so  long  as  our  sovereigns 
are  well-conducted  persons,  and  we  cannot  unseat  them — 
observe;  he  is  eminently  explicit,  the  old  traitor !-— we  are 
to  submit  to  the  outward  forms  of  respect,  but  we  are 
frankly  to  say  we  are  Republicans  ;  he  has  the  impudence 
to  swear  that  England  is  a  Bcpublican  country,  and  calls 
our  thoroughgoing  loj'alty — yours  and  mine,  colonel — dis- 
loyalty. Hark  :  '  AVhere  kings  lead,  it  is  to  be  supposed 
they  are  wanted.  Service  is  the  noble  office  on  earth,  and 
where  kings  do  service  let  them  take  the  first  honoui-s  of  tlie 
State  :  but  ' — hark  at  this — '  the  English  middle  class, 
which  has  absorbed  the  upper,  and  despises,  when  it  is  not 
quaking  before  it,  the  lower,  will  have  nothing  above  it  but 
a  ricketty  ornament  like  that  you  see  on  a  confectioner's 
twelfth -cake.'  " 

"  The  man  deserves  hanging  !"  said  Colonel  Halkett. 

"Further,  my  dear  colonel,  and  Xevil  maiks  it  pretty 
much  throughout :  '  This  loyalty  smacks  of  a  terrible  perfidy. 
Pass  the  lords  and  squires  ;  they  are  old  trees,  old  founda- 
tions, or  joined  to  them,  whether  old  or  new ;  they  naturally 
apprehend  dislocation  when  a  wind  blows,  a  river  rises,  or  a 
man  speaks  ; — that  comes  of  age  or  aping  age  :  their  hearts 
are  in  their  holdings  !  For  the  loyalty  of  the  rest  of  the 
land,  it  is  the  shopkeeper's  loyalty,  which  is  to  be  computed 
by  the  exact  annual  sum  of  his  net  profits.  It  is  now  at  high 
tide.  It  will  last  with  the  prosperity  of  our  commerce.' — 
The  insolent  old  vagabond  ! — 'Let  commercial  disasters  come 
on  us,  and  what  of  the  loyalty  now  paying  its  hundreds  of 
thousands,  and  howling  down  questioners  !  In  a  day  of 
bankruptcies,  how  much  would  you  bid  for  the  loyalty  of  a 
class  shivering  under  deprivation  of  luxuries,  v  ith  its  God 
Comfort  beggared  ?  Ay,  my  Beauchamp,' — the  most  offensive 
thing  to   me  is  that   'my  Beauchamp,'  but  old  Treril  has 

s  2 


260 

evidently  giTeii  liimself  up  liand  and  foot  to  this  rnffian— 
'  ay,  when  you  leflect  that  fear  of  the  so-called  rabble,  i.e. 
the  people,  the  unmoneyed  class,  which  knows  not  Comfort, 
tastes  not  of  luxuries,  is  the  main  component  of  their  noisy 
frigid  loyalty,  and  that  the  people  are  not  with  them  but 
against,  and  yet  that  the  people  might  be  won  by  visible 
forthright  kingly  service  to  a  loyalty  outdoing  theirs  as 
/the  sun  the  moon;  J  ay,  that  the  people  verily  thirst  to 
;  love  and  reverence;  and  that  their  love  is  the  only  love  worth 
having^  because  it  is  disinterested  love,  and  endures,  and 
takes  heat  in  adversity, — reflect  on  it  and  wonder  at  the 
inversion  of  things  !  ^So  with  a  Church.  It  lives  if  it  is  at 
home  wdth  the  poor.  In  the  arms  of  enriched  shopkeepers 
it  rots,  goes  to  decay  in  vestments — vestments  !  fiakes  of 
mummy-wraps  for  it !  or  else  they  use  it  for  one  of  their 
political  truncheons — to  awe  the  ignorant  masses :  I  quote 
them.  So.  I^ot  much  ahead  of  ancient  Egyptians  in  spiri- 
tuality or  in  priestcraft !  They  call  it  statesmansliip.  0 
for  a  word  for  it !  Let  Palsy  and  Cunning  go  to  form  a 
word.  Deadvmnship,  I  call  it.' — To  quote  my  uncle  the  baron, 
this  is  lunatic  drilible  ! — '  Parsons  and  pi-inces  are  happy 
with  the  homage  of  this  huge  ])assive  fleshpot  class.  It  is 
enough  for  them.  Why  not  Y  The  taxes  are  paid  and  the 
tithes.     Whilst  commercial  prosperity  lasts  !'  " 

Colonel  Halkett  threw  his  aims  aloft.  ••* 

"  '  Meanwhile,  note  this  :  the  people  are  the  Power  to 
come.  Oppressed,  unprotected,  abandoned  ;  ]cft  to  the  ebb 
and  flow  of  the  tides  of  the  market,  now  tal>en  on  ^o  work, 
now  cast  off  to  starve,  committed  to  the  shifting  laws  of 
demand  and  supply,  slaves  of  Cai)ital — the  whited  name  for 
old  accursed  ]\lammon  :  and  of  all  the  ranked  and  black- 
uniformed  host -no  pastor  to  come  out  of  the  association  of 
shepherds,  and  proclaim  before  heaven  and  man  the  primary 
claim  of  their  cause  ; — they  are,  I  say,  the  power,  worth 
the  seduction  of  by  another  Power  not  mighty  in  England 
now  :  and  likel}^  in  time  to  set  up  yet  another  Power  nol 
existing  in  England  now.  What  if  a  passive  comfortable 
clergy  hand  them  over  to  men  on  the  models  of  Irish 
pastors,  who  will  succour,  console,  enfold,  champion  them  : 
what  if,  when  they  have  learnt  to  use  their  majority,  sick 
of  deceptions  and  the  endless  pulling  of  interests,  they  raise 
ONE   representative  to  force   the  current  of  action  with   an 


THE  EPISTLE  OP  DE.  SHRAPNEL.  2C)\ 

anthoritv-  as  little  fictitious  as  their  preponderance  of  nnm- 
bers  ?  '^Tlie  despot  and  the  priest !  There  I  see  our  danger, 
Beauchamp.  You  and  I  and  some  dozen  labour  to  tie  and 
knot  them  to  manliness.  We  are  few  ;  they  are  many  and 
weak.  Rome  offers  them  real  comfort  in  return  for  their 
mites  in  coin,  and — poor  souls  !  mites  in  conscience,  many 
of  them.  A  Tyrant  offers  them  to  be  directly  their  friend. 
Ask,  Beauchamp,  why  they  should  not  have  comfort  for  pay 
as  well  as  the  big  round — '  "  Captain  Baskelett  stopped 
and  laid  the  letter  out  for  Colonel  Halkett  to  read  an 
unmentionable  word,  shamelessly  marked  by  Nevil's  pencil 
— '  belly-class  !'  Ask,  too,  wdiether  the  comfort  they  wish  for 
is  not  approaching  divine  compared  with  the  stagnant  flesh- 
liness  of  that  fat  shopkeeper's  Comfort. 

"  '  Warn  the  people  of  this.  Ay,  warn  the  clergy.  It  is 
not  only  the  poor  that  are  caught  b}-  ranters.  Endeavour 
to  make  those  accommodating  shepherds  understand  that 
they  stand  a  chance  of  losing  rich  as  well  as  poor  !  It  should 
awaken  them.  The  helpless  poor  and  the  uneasy  rich  are 
alike  open  to  the  seductions  of  Romish  priests  and  intoxi- 
cated ranters.  I  sa}'  so  it  will  be  if  that  band  of  forty 
thousand  go  on  slumbering  and  podding.  They  walk  in  a 
dream.     The  flesh  is  a  d]-eam.     The  soul  only  is  life.' 

"  Now  for  you,  colonel. 

"*^o  extension  of  the  army — no!  A  thousand  times  no. 
Let  India  go,  then  1  Good  for  India  that  Ave  hold  India? 
Ay,  good:  but  not  at  such  a  cost  as  an  extra  tax,  or  com- 
pulsory service  of  our  working  man.  If  India  is  to  be  held 
for  the  good  of  India,  throw  open  India  to  the  civilized 
nations,  that  they  help  us  in  a  task  that  overstrains  us.  At 
present  India  means  utter  perversion  of  the  policy  of  Eng- 
land. Adrift  India!  rather  than  England  red-coated.  We 
dissent,  Beauchamp  !     For  by-and-by.' 

"That  is,''  Captain  Baskelett  explained,  "by-and-by 
Shrapnel  will  have  old  Nevil  fast  enough." 

"  Is  there  more  of  it  r"  said  Colonel  Halkett,  flapping  his 
forehead  for  coolness. 

"  The  impudence  of  this  dog  in  presuming  to  talk  about 
India  !— eh,  colonel  ?     Only  a  paragraph  or  two  more  :  I  skip 

a  lot Ah !  here  we  are."     Captain  Baskelett  read  to 

himself  and  laughed  in  derision  :  "He  calls  our  Constitution 
a  compact  unsigned  by  the  larger  number  involved  in  it 


262  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

What's  this  ?  *  A  band  of  dealers  in  fleshpottery*  Do  yoii 
detect  a  gleam  of  sense?  He  underscores  it.  *  Interest 
fighting  interest,  none  to  direct,  none  to  command,  and  tlic 
great  interest  of  the  country,  the  poor,  left  to  sicken.'  Then 
he  comes  to  this :"  Captain  Baskelett  requested  Colonel 
'Halkett  to  read  for  himself  :  '  The  stench  of  the  trail  of  Ego 
in  our  History.' 

The  colonel  perused  it  with  an  unsavoury  expression  of 
his  features,  and  jumped  up. 

"  Oddly,  Mr.  Romfrey  thought  this  rather  clever,"  said 
Captain  Baskelett,  and  read  rapidly  :  "  '  Trace  the  course  ')f 
Ego  for  them :  first  the  king  who  conquers  and  can  govern. 
In  his  egoism  he  dubs  him  holy  ;  his  family  is  of  a  select e:l 
blood;  he  makes  the  crown  hereditary — Ego.  Son  by  son 
the  shame  of  egoism  increases ;  valour  abates ;  hereditary 
Crown,  no  hereditary  qualities.  The  Barons  rise.  They  in 
turn  hold  sway,  and  for  their  order— Ego.  The  traders 
overturn  them :  each  class  rides  the  classes  under  it  while 
it  can.  It  is  ego — ego,  the  fountain  cry,  origin,  sole  source 
of  war!  Then  death  to  ego,  I  say!  If  those  traders  had 
ruled  for  other  than  ego,  power  might  have  rested  with 
them  on  broad  basis  enough  to  carry  us  forward  for  cen- 
turies. The  workmen  have  ever  been  too  anxious  to  he  ruled. 
Now  comes  on  the  workman's  era.  Numbers  win  in  the 
end:  proof  of  small  wisdom  in  the  world.  Anyhow,  with 
numbers  there  is  rough  nature's  wisdom  and  justice.  Witli 
numbers  ego  is  inter-dependent  and  dispersed ;  it  is  univer- 
salized. Yet  these  may  require  correctives.  If  so,  they  will 
have  it  in  a  series  of  despots  and  revolutions  that  toss,  mix, 
and  bind  the  classes  together  :  desjjots,  i-evolutions  ;  panting 
alternations  of  the  quicJ:' ned  heart  of  humanity:^  marked  by 
our  friend  Nevil  in  notes  of  admiration." 

"  Mad  as  the  writer,"  groaned  Colonel  Halkett.  "  Never 
in  my  life  have  I  heard  such  stuif." 

"  Stay,  colonel ;  here's  Shrapnel  defending  ]\Iorality  and 
Society,"  said  Captain  Baskelett. 

Colonel  Halkett  vowed  he  was  under  no  penal  law  to 
listen,  and  would  not;  but  Captain  Baskelett  pei-snaJed  him  : 
"Yes,  here  it  is :  I  give  you  my  word.  Apparently  old 
Nevil  has  been  standing  up  for  every  man's  right  to  run 
away  with  .  .  .  Yes,  really  !  I  give  you  my  word  ;  and  here 
we  have  Shrapnel  insisting  on  respect  for  the  marriage  laws 


THE  EPISTLE  OF  BR,  SH1?AP^^EIl.  263 

Do  hear  tliis  ;  here  it  is  in  black  and  white  : — *  Society  is  our 
one  tangible  gain,  our  one  roofing  and  flooring  in  a  world  of 
most  uncertain  structures  built  on  moi-asses.  Toward  the 
laws  that  support  it  men  hopeful  of  progress  give  their 
adhesion.  If  it  is  martyrdom,  what  then  ?  Let  the  martyr- 
dom be.  Contumacy  is  animalism.  And  attend  to  me,'  says 
Shrapnel,  '  the  truer  the  love  the  readier  for  sacrifice  !  A 
thousand  times  yes.  Rebellion  against  Society,  and  advo  -acy 
of  Humanity,  run  counter.  Tell  me  Society  is  the  whited 
sepulchre,  that  it  is  blotched,  hideous,  hollow :  and  I  say, 
add  not  another  disfigurement  to  it:  add  to  the  purification 
of  it.  And  3^ou,  if  you  answer,  what  can  only  one  ?  I  say 
that  is  the  animal's  answer,  and  applies  also  to  politics, 
where  the  question,  ivhat  can  one  ?  put  in  the  relapsing  tone, 
shows  the  country  decaying  in  the  individual.  Society  is 
the  protection  of  the  weaker,^therefore  a  shield  of  women, 
who  are  our  temple  of  civilization,  to  be  kept  sacred ;  and  he 
that  loves  a  woman  will  assuredly  esteem  and  pity  her  sex, 
and  not  drag  her  down  for  another  example  of  their  frailty. 
Fight  this  out  within  you — !'  But  you  are  right,  colonel; 
we  have  had  sufficient.  I  shall  be  getting  a  democratic 
orator's  twang,  or  a  crazy  parson's,  if  I  go  on  much  further. 
He  covers  thirtj^-two  pages  of  letter-paper.  The  conclusion 
is  : — '  Jenny  sends  you  her  compliments,  respects,  and  best 
wishes,  and  hopes  she  may  see  you  before  she  goes  to  her 
friend  Clara  Sherwin  and  the  General.'  " 

"  Sherwin  ?  Why,  General  Sherwin's  a  perfect  gentle- 
man," Colonel  Halkett  interjected;  and  Lord  Palmet  caught 
the  other  name:  "Jenny?  That's  Miss  Denham,  Jenny 
Denham  ;  an  amazingly  pretty  girl  :  beautiful  thick  brown 
haii%  real  hazel  eyes,  and  walks  like  a  yacht  before  the 
wind." 

"Perhaps,  colonel,  Jenny  accaunts  for  the  defence  of 
society,"  said  Captain  Baskelett.  "  I  have  no  doubt  Shrap- 
nel has  a  scheme  for  Jenny.  The  old  communist  and 
socialist!"  He  folded  up  the  letter:  "A  curious  composi- 
tion, is  it  not,  Miss  Halkett  ?" 

Cecilia  was  thinking  that  he  tempted  her  to  be  the  apolo- 
gist of  even  such  a  letter. 

"  One  likes  to  know  the  worst,  and  what's  possible,"  said 
the  colonel. 

After  Captain  Baskelett  had  gone,  Colonel   Halkett  per- 


264  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

sisted  in  tallying  of  the  letter,  and  would  have  impressed 
on  his  daughter  that  the  person  to  whom  the  letter  was 
addressed  must  be  partly  responsible  for  the  contents  of  it. 
Cecilia  put  on  the  argumentative  air  of  a  Court  of  Equity  to 
discuss  the  point  with  him, 

"  Then  you  defend  that  letter  ?"  he  cried. 

Oh,  no  :  she  did  not  defend  the  letter ;  she  thought  it 
wicked  and  senseless.  "  But,"  said  she,  "  the  superior 
strength  of  men  to  women  seems  to  me  to  come  from  their 
examining  all  subjects,  shrinking  from  none.  At  least,  I 
should  not  condemn  Nevil  on  account  of  his  correspondence." 

"  We  shall  see,"  said  her  father,  sighing  rather  heavily. 
"I  must  have  a  talk  with  Mr.  Romfrey  about  that  letter." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


TEE  BAITING  OF  DR.  SHRAPNEL. 


Captain  Baskelett  went  down  from  Mount  Laurels  to 
Bevisham  to  arrange  for  the  giving  of  a  dinner  to  certain  of 
his  chief  supportei-s  in  the  borough,  that  they  might  know 
he  was  not  obliged  literally  to  sit  in  Parliament  in  order  to 
pay  a  close  attention  to  their  affairs.  He  had  not  distin- 
guished himself  by  a  speech  during  the  session,  but  he  had 
stored  a  political  precept  or  <  two  in  his  memory,  and,  as  he 
told  Lord  Palmet,  he  thought  a  dinner  \vas  due  to  his 
villains.  *^  The  way  to  manage  your  Englishman,  Palmet, 
is  to  dine  hini."  As  the  dinner  would  decidedly  be  dull,  he 
insisted  on  having  Lcn-d  Palmet's  company.  They  crossed 
over  to  the  yachting  island,  Avhere  poi'tions  of  the  letter  of 
Commander  Beauchamp's  correspondent  were  read  at  the 
Club,  under  the  verandah,  and  the  question  put  whether  a 
man  who  held  those  opinions  had  a  right  to  wear  his 
uniform. 

The  letter  was  transmitted  to  Steynham  in  time  to  be  con- 
signed to  the  pocket-book  before  Bcauchamp  arrived  there 
on  one  of  his  rare  visit?.  Mr.  Romfrey  handed  him  the 
pocket-book  with  the  fiank  declaration  that  he  had  read 


THE  BAITIKG  OF  DE.  SHEAPNEL.  265 

Shrapnel's  letter.      "All  is   fair  in  "war,  sir!"  Boaneliamp 
quoted  liim  anibigiiouslj. 

The  thieves  had  amused  Mr.  Rom f rev  hy  tlieir  scrupulous 
honesty  in  returning  what  was  useless  to  them,  while 
reserving  the  coat:  but  subsequently  seeing  the  advertised 
reward,  they  had  written  to  claim  it ;  and,  according  to 
Rosamund  Culling,  he  had  been  so  tickled  that  he  had 
deigned  to  reply  to  them,  very  briefly,  but  very  comically. 

Speaking  of  the  matter  v>ith  her,  Beauchamp  said  (so 
greatly  Avas  he  inicit^iated  with  the  dangerous  man)  that  the 
reading  of  a  letter  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's  could  do  nothing  but 
good  to  any  reflecting  human  creature  :  he  admitted  that  as 
the  lost  pocket-book  was  addressed  to  Mr.  Romfrey,  it  might 
have  been  by  mistake  that  he  had  opened  it,  and  read  the 
topmost  letter  lying  open.  But  he  pressed  Rosamund  to  say 
whether  that  one  only  had  been  read. 

"  Only  Dr.  Shrapnel's  letter,"  Rosamund  affirmed.  **  The 
letter  from  Normandy  was  untouched  by  him." 

"Untouched  by  anybody  r" 

*'  Unopened,  Nevil.     You  look  incredulous.** 

"  Not  if  I  have  your  word,  ma'am." 

He  glanced  somewhat  contemptuously  at  his  uncle  Everard's 
anachronistic  notions  of  what  was  fair  in  wai-. 

To  prove  to  him  Mr.  Romfrey 's  affectionate  interest  in  his 
fortunes,  Rosamund  mentioned  the  overtures  which  had  been 
made  to  Colonel  Halkett  for  a  nuptial  allowance  betAveenthe 
two  houses;  and  she  said,  "Your  uncle  E^'erard  was  com- 
pletely won  by  your  manly  way  of  taking  his  opposition  to 
you  in  Bevisham.  He  pays  for  Captain  Baskelett,  but  you 
and  3'our  fortunes  are  nearest  his  heart,  Nevil." 

Beauchamp  hung  silent.  His  first  remark  was,  "  Yes, 
I  want  money.  I  must  have  money."  By  degrees  he  seemed 
to  warm  to  some  sense  of  gratitude.  "  It  was  kind  of  the 
baron,"  he  said. 

"  He  has  a  great  affection  for  you,  Nevil,  though  you  know 
he  spares  no  one  who  chooses  to  be  antagonistic.  All  that  is 
over.  But  do  you  not  second  him,  Ne^dl  ?  You  admire  her  ? 
You  are  not  adverse  ?" 

Beauchamp  signified  the  liorrid  intermixtui^e  of  yes  and 
no,  frowned  in  pain  of  mind,  and  walked  up  and  dowia. 
•*  There's  no  living  woman  I  admire  so  much." 

"  She  has  refused  the  highest  matches." 


2t)6  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEE. 

"I  hold  her  in  ev^erj  way  incomparable.'* 

"  She  tries  to  under:  tand  your  political  ideas,  if  she  cannot 
quite  teympathize  with  them,  Nevil.  And  consider  how  hard 
it  is  for  a  yonng  English  lady,  bred  in  refinement,  to  under- 
stand such  things." 

"  Yes,"  Beauchamp  nodded  ;  "yes.  Well,  more's  the  pity 
for  me  !" 

"Ah  !  Nevil,  that  fatal  Renee  !" 

"  Ma'am,  I  acquit  you  of  any  suspicion  of  your  having 
read  her  letter  in  this  pocket-book.  She  wishes  me  to  marry. 
You  would  have  seen  ib  written  here.     She  wishes  it." 

"  Fly,  clipped  wing  !"  murmured  Rosamund,  and  purposely 
sent  a  buzz  into  her  ears  to  shut  out  his  extravagant  talk  of 
Renee's  friendly  wishes. 

'^"  How  is  it  you  women  will  not  believe  in  the  sincerity  of 
a  woman  !"  he  exclaimed. 

"  Nevil,  I  am  not  alhiding  to  the  damage  done  to  your 
election." 

"  To  my  candidature,  ma'am.  You  mean  those  rumours, 
those  lies  of  the  enemy.  Tell  me  how  I  could  suppose  you 
were  alluding  to  them.  You  bring  them  forward  now  to 
justify  your  charge  of  '  fatal '  against  her.  She  has  one 
fault;  she  wants  courage;  she  has  none  other,  not  one  that 
is  not  excusable.  We  won't  speak  of  France.  What  did 
her  father  say  ?" 

"  Colonel  Halkett  ?  I  do  not  know.  He  and  his  daughter 
come  hei-e  next  week,  and  the  colonel  will  expect  to  meet  you 
here.  That  does  not  look  like  so  positive  an  objection  to 
you?" 

"To  me  personally,  no,"  said  Beauchamp.  "But  Mr. 
Romfrey  has  not  told  me  that  I  am  to  meet  them." 

"  Perhaps  he  has  not  thought  it  worth  while.  It  is  not 
his  way.  He  has  asked  you  to  come.  You  and  Miss  Halkett 
will  be  left  to  yourselves.  Her  father  assured  Mr.  Romfrey 
that  he  should  not  go  beyond  advising  her.  His  advice  might 
not  be  exactl}'  favourable  to  you  at  present,  but  if  you  sued 
and  she  accepted — and  she  would,  I  am  convinced  she  would  ; 
she  was  here  Avith  me,  talking  of  you  a  whole  afternoon,  and 
I  have  eyes — then  he  would  not  oppose  the  match,  and  then 
I  should  see  you  settled,  the  husband  of  the  handsomest  wife 
and  richest  heiress  in  England.'* 


THE  BAITING  OF  DR.  SHRAPXEL.  2G7 

A  vision  of  Cecilia  swam  before  him,  gracious  in  state- 
liness. 

^  Two  weeks  back  Rence's  expression  of  a  wisb  that  he 
would  marry  had  seemed  to  him  an  idle  sentence  in  a  letter 
breathing  of  her  own  intolerable  situation.  The  marquis 
had  been  struck  down  by  illness.  What  if  she  were  to  be 
soon  suddenly  free  ?  But  Renee  could  not  be  looking  to 
freedom,  otherwise  she  never  would  have  written  the  wish 
for  him  to  marry.  She  wrote  perhaps  hearing  temptation 
whisper ;  perhaps  wishing  to  save  herself  and  him  by  the 
aid  of  a  tie  that  would  bring  his  honour  into  play  and  fix 
his  loyalty.  He  remembered  Dr.  Shrapnel's  written  words : 
'''' Rehellion  against  society  and  advocacy  of  humanity  run\ 
coimter.''  They  had  a  stronger  effect  on  him  than  when  he 
was  ignorant  of  his  uncle  Everard's  plan  to  match  him  with 
Cecilia.  He  took  refuge  from  them  in  the  image  of  that 
beautiful  desolate  Renee,  born  to  be  beloved,  now  wasted, 
worse  than  trodden  under  foot — perverted  ;  a  life  that  looked 
to  him  for  direction  and  resuscitation.  She  was  as  good  as 
dead  in  her  marriage.  It  was  impossible  for  him  ever  to 
think  of  Renee  without  the  surprising  thrill  of  his  enchant- 
ment with  her,  and  tender  pity  that  drew  her  closer  to  hira 
by  darkening  her  brightness. 
>^  Still  a  man  may  love  his  wife.  A  wife  like  Cecilia  was 
not  to  be  imagined  coldly.  Let  the  knot  once  be  tied,  it 
would  not  be  regretted,  could  not  be  ;  hers  was  a  character, 
and  hers  a  smile,  firmly  assuring  him  of  that.  • 

He  told  Mr.  Romfrey  that  he  should  be  glad  to  meet 
Colonel  Halkett  and  Cecilia.  Business  called  him  to 
Holdesbury.  Thence  he  betook  himself  to  Dr.  Shrapnel's 
cottage  to  say  farewell  to  Jenny  Denham  previous  to  her 
departure  for  Switzerland  with  her  friend  Clara  Sherwin. 
She  had  never  seen  a  snow-mountain,  and  it  was  pleasant  to 
him  to  observe  in  her  eyes,  which  he  had  known  weighing 
and  balancing  intellectual  questions  more  than  he  quite 
liked,  a  childlike  effort  to  conjure  in  imagination  the  glories 
of  the  Alps.  She  appeared  very  happy,  only  a  little  anxious 
about  leaving  Dr.  Shrapnel  with  no  one  to  take  care  of  him 
for  a  whole  month.  Beauchamp  promised  he  would  run 
over  to  him  from  Holdesbury,  only  an  hour  by  rail,  as  often 
as  he  could.  He  envied  her  the  sight  of  the  Alps,  he  said, 
and  tried  to  give  her  an  idea  of  them,  from  which  he  broke 


268  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEE. 

off  to  boast  of  a  famous  little  Jersey  bull  that  lie  had  won 
from  a  rival,  an  American,  deeply  in  love  with  the  bull ; 
cutting  him  out  by  telegraph  by  just  five  minutes.  The 
latter  had  examined  the  bull  in  the  island  and  had  passed 
on  to  Paris,  not  suspecting  there  would  be  haste  to  sell  him. 
Beauchamp  seeing  the  bull  advertised,  took  him  on  trust, 
galloped  to  the  nearest  telegraph  station  forthwith,  and  so 
obtained  possessed  of  him  ;  and  the  bull  was  now  shipped 
on  the  voyage.  But  for  this  precious  bull,  however,  and 
other  business,  he  would  have  been  able  to  spend  almost  the 
entire  month  with  Dr.  Shrapnel,  he  said  regretfully.  Miss 
Denham  on  the  contrary  did  not  regret  his  active  occupation. 
The  story  of  his  rush  from  the  bi-eakfast-table  to  the  stables, 
and  gallop  away  to  the  station,  while  the  American  Quaker 
gentleman  soberly  paced  down  a  street  in  Paris  on  the  same 
errand,  in  invisible  rivalry,  touched  her  risible  fancy.  She 
was  especially  pleased  to  think  of  him  living  in  harmony 
with  his  uncle — that  strange,  lofty,  powerful  man,  who  by 
plot  or  by  violence  punished  opposition  to  his  will,  but  who 
must  be  kind  at  heart,  as  well  as  forethoughtful  of  his 
nephew's  good ;  the  assurance  of  it  being  that  when  the 
conflict  was  at  an  end  he  had  immediately  installed  him  as 
manager  of  one  of  his  estates,  to  give  his  energy  play  and 
make  him  practically  useful. 

The  day  before  she  left  home  was  passed  by  the  three  in 
botanizing,  some  miles  distant  from  Be^Tsham,  over  sand 
country,  marsh  and  meadow ;  Dr.  Shrapnel,  deep  in  the 
science,  on  one  side  of  her,  and  Beauchamp,  requiring 
instruction  in  the  names  and  properties  of  every  plant  and 
simple,  on  the  other.  It  was  a  day  of  summer  sweetness, 
gentle  laughter,  conversation,  and  the  happiest  homeliness. 
The  politicians  uttered  barely  a  syllable  of  politics.  The 
dinner  basket  was  emptied  heartily  to  make  way  for  herb 
and  flower,  and  at  night  the  expedition  homeward  ^vas 
croAvned  with  stars  along  a  road  refreshed  by  mid-day 
thunder-showers  and  smelling  of  the  rjiin  in  the  dust,  past 
meadows  keenly  scenting,  gardens  giving  out  their  innermost 
balm  and  odour.  Late  at  night  they  drank  tea  in  Jenny's 
own  garden.  They  separated  a  little  after  two  in  the 
morning,  when  the  faded  Western  light  still  lay  warm  on  a 
bow  of    sky,  and  on  the    level   of  the    East    it   quickened 


THE  BAITIXG  OP  DE.  SHRAPNEL.  26P 

Jenny  felt  sure  slie  should  long  for  that  yesterday  when  she 
M'as  among  foreign  scenes,  even  among  high  Alps — those 
mysterious  eminences  which  seemed  in  her  imagination  to 
know  of  heaven  and  have  the  dawn  of  a  new  life  for  her 
beyond  their  peaks. 

Her  last  words  when  stepping  into  the  railway  carriage 
were  toBeauchamp:  ^^  Will  you  take  care  of  him  P  "  She 
fiung  her  arms  round  Dr.  ShrajDnel's  neck,  and  gazed  at  him 
under  troubled  eyelids  which  seemed  to  be  passing  in  review 
every  vision  of  possible  harm  that  might  come  to  him  during 
her  absence  ;  and  so  she  continued  gazing,  and  at  no  one  but 
Dr.  Shrapnel  until  the  bend  of  the  line  cut  him  from  her 
sight.  Beauchamp  was  a  very  secondary  person  on  that 
occasion,  and  he  was  unused  to  being  so  in  the  society  of 
women — unused  to  find  himself  entirely  eclipsed  by  their 
interest  in  another.  He  speculated  on  it,  wondering  at  her 
concentrated  fervency ;  for  he  had  not  supposed  her  to 
possess  much  warmth. 

After  she  was  fairly  off  on  her  journey.  Dr.  Shrapnel  men- 
tioned to  Beauchamp  a  case  of  a  Steynham  poacher,  whom 
he  had  thought  it  his  duty  to  supply  with  means  of  defence. 
It  was  a  common  poaching  case. 

Beaucham^D  was  not  surprised  that  Mr.  Romfrey  and  Dr. 
Shrapnel  should  come  to  a  collision ;  the  marvel  was  that  it 
had  never  occurred  before,  and  Beauchamp  said  at  once  : 
"  Oh,  my  uncle  Mr.  Romfrey  would  rather  see  them  stand 
their  gi'ound  than  not."  He  was  disposed  to  think  well  of 
his  uncle.     The  Jersey  bull  called  him  away  to  Holdesbury. 

Captain  Baskelett  heard  of  this  poaching  case  at  Steyn- 
ham,  where  he  had  to  appear  in  person  when  he  was  in  want 
of  cheques,  and  the  Bevisham  dinner  furnished  an  excuse  for 
demanding  one.  He  would  haA^e  preferred  a  positive  sum 
annually.  ]\Ir.  Romfrey,  however,  though  he  wrote  his 
cheques  out  like  the  lord  he  was  by  nature,  exacted  the 
request  for  them  ;  a  system  that  kept  the  gallant  gentleman 
on  his  good  behaviour,  probably  at  a  lower  cost  than  the 
regular  stipend.  In  handing  the  cheque  to  Cecil  Baskelett, 
Mr.  Romfrey  spoke  of  a  poacher,  of  an  old  poaching  family 
called  the  Dicketts,  who  wanted  punishment  and  t^  as  to  have 
it,  but  Mr.  Romfrey's  local  lawyer  had  informed  him  that  the 
man  Shrapnel  was,  as  usual,  supplying  the  means  of  defence. 
For  his  own  ]>art,  Mr.  Romfrey  said,  he  had  no  objection  to 


270.  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

one  rascal's  "barking'  another,  and  Shrapnel  mi^'ht  hit  his 
hardest,  only  perhaps  N'evil  might  somehow  get  mixed  np  in 
it,  and  Nevil  was  going  on  quietly  now — he  had  in  fact  just 
done  capitally  in  lassoing  with  a  shot  of  the  telegraph  a 
splendid  little  Jersey  bull  that  a  Yankee  was  after :  and  on 
the  whole  it  was  best  to  try  to  keep  him  quiet,  for  he  was 
mad  about  that  man  Shrapnel ;  Shrapnel  was  his  joss:  and 
if  legal  knocks  came  of  this  business  Xevil  might  be  thinking 
of  interfering:  "  Or  he  and  I  may  be  getting  to  exchange  a 
lot  of  shindy  letters,"  Mr.  Romfrey  said.  "  Tell  him  I  take 
Shrapnel  just  like  any  other  man,  and  don't  want  to  hear 
apologies,  and  I  don't  mix  him  up  in  it.  Tell  him  if  he 
likes  to  have  an  explanation  from  me,  I'll  give  it  him  wlien 
he  comes  here.  You  can  run  over  to  Holdesbury  the  morning 
after  your  dinner." 

Captain  Baskelett  said  he  would  go.  He  was  pleased  with 
his  cheque  at  the  time,  but  hearing  subsequently  that  Nevil 
was  coming  to  Steynham  to  meet  Colonel  Halkett  and  his 
daughter,  he  became  displeased,  considering  it  a  very  silly 
commission.  The  more  he  thought  of  it  the  more  ridiculous 
and  unworthy  it  appeared.  He  asked  himself  and  Lord 
Palmet  also  why  he  should  have  to  go  to  Nevil  at  Holdes- 
bury to  tell  him  of  circumstances  that  he  would  hear  of  two 
or  three  days  later  at  Steynham.  There  was  no  sense  in  it. 
The  only  conclusion  for  him  was  that  the  scheming  woman 
Culling  had  determined  to  bring  down  every  man  concerned 
in  the  Bevisham  election,  and  particularly  Mr.  Romfrey,  on 
his  knees  before  Nevil.  Holdesbury  had  been  placed  at  his 
disposal,  and  the  use  of  the  house  in  London,  which  latter 
would  have  been  extremely  serviceable  to  Cecil  as  a  place  of 
dinners  to  the  Parliament  of  Great  Britain  in  lieu  of  the 
speech-making  Generally  expected  of  i^rembers,  and  not  so 
effectively  performed.  One  would  think  the  baron  had 
grown  afraid  of  old  TsTevil !     He  had  spr  ken  as  if  he  were. 

Cecil  railed  unreservedly  to  Lord  Palmet  against  that 
woman  "  Mistress  Culling,"  as  it  pleased  him  to  term  her, 
and  who  could  be  oilended  by  his  calling  her  so  ?  His  fine 
wit  revelled  in  bestowing  titles  that  were  at  once  batterifs 
directed  upon  persons  he  hated,  and  entrencliments  for 
himself. 

At  four  o'clock  on  a  sultry  afternoon  he  sat  at  table  with 
his  Bevisham  supporters,  and  pledged  them  correspondingly 


THE    BAITING    OF    DR.  8HRAPNEL.  <^71 

in  English  hotel  champagne,  sherry  and  claret.  At  seven 
he  was  rid  of  them,  but  parched  and  heated,  as  he  deserved 
to  be,  he  owned,  for  drinking  the  poison.  It  would  be  a  good 
subject  for  Parliament  if  he  could  get  it  up,  he  reflected. 

"And  now,"  said  he  to  Palmet,  "we  mic'ht  be  crossing 
over  to  the  Club  if  I  hadn't  to  go  about  that  stupid  business 
to  Holdesbury  to-mon-ow  morning.  We  shall  miss  the  race, 
or,  at  least,  the  start.'" 

The  idea  struck  him  :  "  Ten  to  one  old  Xevil's  with 
Shrapnel,"  and  no  idea  could  be  more  natural. 

"  We'll  call  on  Shrapnel,"  said  Palmet.  "  We  shall  see 
Jenny  Denham.  He  gives  her  out  as  his  niece.  Whatever 
she  is  she's  a  brimming  little  beauty.  I  assure  you,  Bask, 
you  seldom  see  so  pretty  a  girl." 

Wine,  which  has  directed  men's  footsteps  upon  more 
marvellous  adv^entures,  took  them  to  a  chemist's  shop  for  a 
cooling  effervescent  draught,  and  thence  through  the  town 
to  the  address,  furnished  to  them  by  the  chemist,  of  Dr. 
Shrapnel  on  the  common. 

Bad  wine,  which  is  responsible  for  the  fate  of  half  the 
dismal  bodies  hanging  from  trees,  weltering  by  rocks, 
grovelling  a.nd  bleaching  round  the  bedabbled  mouth  of 
^i  the  poet's  Cave  of  Despair,  had  rendered  Captain  Baske- 
lett's  temper  extremely  irascible  ;  so  when  he  caught  sight 
of  Dr.  Shrapnel  walking  in  his  garden,  and  perceived  him 
of  a  giant's  height,  his  eyes  fastened  on  the  writer  of  the 
abominable  letter  with  an  exultation  peculiar  to  men  having* 
a  devil  inside  them  that  kicks  to  be  out.  The  sun  was  low, 
blazing  among  the  thicker  branches  of  the  pollard  forest 
trees,  and  through  sprays  of  hawthorn.  Dr.  Shrapnel 
stopped,  facing  the  visible  master  of  men,  at  the  end  of  his 
walk  before  he  turned  his  back  to  continue  the  exercise  and 
some  discourse  he  was  holding  aloud  either  to  the  heavens 
or  bands  of  invisible  men.  ^ 

"  Ahem,  Dr.  Shrapnel !"  He  was  acepsted  twice,  the 
second  time  imperiously.  "       % 

He  saw  two  gentlemen  outside  the  garden-hedge. 

"  I  spoke,  sir,"  said  Captain  Baskelett. 

"  T  hear  you  now,  sir,"  said  the  doctor,  walking  in  a 
parallel  line  with  them. 

"  I  desired  to  know,  sir,  if  you  are  Dr.  Shrapnel  1  " 

"  I  am." 


272 

They  arrived  at  the  garden-gate. 

"  You  have  a  charming  garden,  Dr.  Shrapnel,"  said  Lord 
Palmet,  very  affably  and  loudly,  with  a  steady  observation 
of  the  cottao-e  windows. 

o 

Dr.  Shrapnel  flung  the  gate  open. 

Lard  Palmet  raised  his  hat  and  entered,  crying  loudly, 
**  A  very  charming  garden,  upon  my  word  !" 

Captain  Baskelett  followed  him,  bowing  stiffly. 

"  I  am,"  ho  said,  "  Captain  Beauchamp's  cousin.  I  am 
Captain  Baskelett,  one  of  the  Members  for  the  borough." 

The  doctor  said,  "  Ah." 

"  I  fvish  to  see  Captain  Beauchamp,  sir.     He  is  absent  ?** 

"  J  shall  have  him  here  shortly,  sir." 

"  Oh,  you  will  have  him!"     Cecil  paused. 

"  Admirable  roses  !"  exclaimed  Lord  Palmet. 

"  Yon  have  him,  I  think,"  said  Cecil,  "  if  what  we  hear  is 
correct.  I  wish  to  know,  sir,  whether  the  case  you  are  con- 
ducting against  his  uncle  is  one  you  have  communicated  to 
Captain  Beauchamp.  I  repeat,  I  am  here  to  inquire  if  he  is 
privy  to  it.  You  may  hold  family  ties  in  contempt — Now, 
sir !  I  request  you  abstain  from  provocations  with  me." 

Dr.  Shrapnel  had  raised  his  head,  with  something  of  the 
rush  of  a  rocket,  from  the  stooping  posture  to  listen,  and  his 
frown  of  non-intelligence  might  be  intei-preted  as  the  coming 
on  of  the  fury  Radicals  are  prone  to,  by  a  gentleman  who 
believed  in  their  constant  disposition  to  explode. 

Cecil  made  play  with  a  pacifying  hand.  "AYe  shall  arrive 
at  no  understanding  unless  you  are  good  enough  to  be  per- 
fectly calm.  I  repeat,  my  cousin  Captain  Beauchamp  is 
more  or  less  at  variance  with  his  family,  owing  to  these 
doctrines  of  yours,  and  your  extraordinary  Michael- Scott- 
the- wizard  kind  of  spell  you  seem  to  have  cast  upon  his 
common  sense  as  a  man  of  the  world.  You  have  Mm,  as  you 
say.  T  do  not  disj^ute  it.  I  have  no  doubt  you  have  him 
fast.  But  here  is  a  case  demanding  a  certain  respect  for 
decency.  Pray,  if  I  may  ask  you,  be  still,  be  quiet,  and  hear 
me  out  if  you  can.  I  am  accustomed  to  explain  myself  to 
the  comprehension  of  most  men  who  are  at  large,  and  I  tell 
you  candidly  I  am  not  to  be  deceived  or  diverted  from  my 
path  by  a  show  of  ignorance." 

"What  is  your  immediate  object,  sir?"  said  Dr.  Shrapnel, 


THE  BAITING  OF  DE.  SHEAPNEL.  273 

chagrined  by  the  mystification  within  him,  and  a  fear  that 
his  patience  was  going. 

"Exactly,"  Cecil  nodded.  He  was  acute  enough  to  see 
that  he  had  established  the  happy  commencement  of  fretful- 
ness  in  the  victim,  which  is  equivalent  to  a  hook  well  struck 
in  the  mouth  of  your  fish,  and  with  an  angler's  joy  he  pre- 
pared to  play  his  man.  "  Exactly.  I  have  stated  it.  And 
you  ask  me.  But  I  really  must  decline  to  run  over  the  whole 
ground  again  for  you.  T  am  here  to  fulfil  a  duty  to  my 
family ;  a  highly  disagreeable  one  to  me.  I  may  fail,  like 
the  lady  who  came  here  previous  to  the  Election,  for  the 
result  of  which  I  am  assured  I  ought  to  thank  your  eminently 
disinterested  services.  I  do.  You  recollect  a  lady  calling 
on  you  ?" 

Dr.  Shrapnel  consulted  his  memory.  "  I  think  I  have  a 
recollection  of  some  lady  calling." 

"  Oh !  you  think  you  have  a  recollection  of  some  lady 
calling." 

"  Do  you  mean  a  lady  connected  with  Captain  Beauchamp. 

"  A  lady  connected  with  Captain  Beauchamp  !  You  are 
not  aware  of  the  situation  of  the  lady  ?" 

"If  I  remember,  she  was  a  kind  of  confidential  house- 
keeper, some  one  said,  to  Captain  Beauchamp's  uncle." 

"A  kind  of  confidential  housekeej^er !  She  is  recognized 
in  our  family  as  a  lady,  sir.  I  can  hardly  expect  better 
treatment  at  your  hands  than  she  met  with,  but  I  do  posi- 
tively request  you  to  keep  your  temper  whilst  I  am  explain- 
ing my  business  to  you.     Xow,  sir  !  what  now  ?" 

A  trifling  breeze  will  set  the  tall  tree  bending,  and  Dr. 
Shrapnel  did  indeed  appear  to  display  the  agitation  of  a  full- 
driving  storm  when  he  was  but  hai-assed  and  vexed, 

"  Will  you  mention  your  business  concisely,  if  you  please," 
he  said. 

"Precisely;  it  is  my  endeavour.  I  supposed  I  had  done 
60.  To  be  frank,  I  would  advise  you  to  summon  a  member 
of  your  household,  wife,  daughter,  hou^ekee}  er,  auy  one  you 
like,  to  whom  you  may  appeal,  and  1  too,  whenever  your 
recollections  are  at  fault," 

"I  am  competent,"  said  the  doctor, 

"  But  in  justice  to  you,"  urged  Cecil  considerately. 
Dr.  Shrapnel  smoothed  his  chin  hastily.  "  Have  you  done?" 
"  Believe  me,  the  instant  I  have  an  answer  to  my  question, 
I  have  done," 


274  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"Name  your  qnestion." 

"  Very  well,  sir,  N'ow  mark,  I  will  be  plain  witli  you. 
There  is  no  escape  for  you  from  this.  You  destroy  my 
cousin's  professional  prospects — I  request  you  to  listen ! — 
you  blast  his  career  in  the  navy ;  it  was  considered  promis- 
ing. He  was  a  gallant  officer  and  a  smart  seaman.  Very 
well.  You  set  him  up  as  a  politician,  to  be  knocked  down, 
to  a  dead  certainty.  You  set  him  against  his  class;  you 
embroil  him  with  his  family  ..." 

"  On  all  those  points,"  interposed  Dr.  Shrapnel,  after  dash- 
ing a  hand  to  straighten  his  forelock  ;  but  Cecil  vehemently 
entreated  him  to  control  his  teni])er. 

"  I  say  you  embroil  him  with  his  family,  you  cause  him  to 
be  in  everlasting  altercation  with  his  uncle  Mr.  Romfrey, 
materially  to  his  personal  detriment;  and  the  question  of 
his  family  is  one  that  every  man  of  sense  would  apprehend 
on  the  spot ;  for  we,  you  should  know,  have,  sir,  an  opinion 
of  Captain  Beauchamp's  talents  and  abilities  forbidding  us 
to  think  he  could  possibly  be  the  total  simpleton  you  make 
him  appear,  unless  to  the  seductions  of  your  political  instruc- 
tions, other  seductions  were  added You  apprehend  me, 

I  am  sure." 

"  I  don't,"  cried  the  doctor,  descending  from  his  height 
and  swinging  about  forlornly. 

"  Oh !  yes,  you  do  ;  you  do  indeed,  you  cannot  avoid  it ; 
you  quite  apprehend  me  ;  it  is  admitted  that  you  take  my 
meaning :  I  insist  on  that.  I  have  nothing  to  say  but  what 
is  complimentary  of  the  young  lady,  whoever  she  may  turn 
out  to  be  ;  bewitching,  no  doubt ;  and  to  speak  frankly.  Dr. 
Shrapnel,  I,  and  I  am  pretty  certain  every  honest  man  would 
think  with  me,  I  take  it  to  be  ten  times  moi-e  creditable  to 
my  cousin  Captain  Beauchamp  that  he  should  be  under  a 
lady's  influence  than  under  yours.  Come,  sir  I  I  ask  you. 
You  must  confess  that  a  gallant  officer  and  great  admirer  of 
the  sex  does  not  look  such  a  donkey  if  he  is  led  in  silken 
strings  by  a  beautiful  creature.  And  mark— stop  !  mark 
this,  Dr.  Shrapnel :  I  say,  to  the  lady  we  can  all  excuse  a 
good  deal,  and  at  the  same  time  you  are  to  be  congratulated 
on  first-rate  diplomacy  in  employing  so  charming  an  agent. 
I  wish,  I  really  wish  yon  did  it  generally,  I  assure  you : 
only,  mark  this — I  do  beg  you  to  contain  yourself  foi-  a 
minute,  if  possible — I  say,  my  cousin  Captain  Beaucluiiiip 
is  fair  game  to  hunt,  and  there  is  no  law  to  prevent  the 


THE  BAITING  OF  DE.   SHRAPNEL.  275 

chase,  only  you  must  not  expect  us  to  be  quiet  spectators  of 
your  sport  ;  and  we  have,  I  saj,  undoubtedly  a  right  to  lay 
the  case  before  the  Lndy,  and  induce  her  to  be  a  peace-agent 
in  the  family  if  we  can.     Very  well." 

"  This  garden  is  redolent  of  a  lady's  hand,"  sighed  Palmet, 
poetical  in  his  dejection. 

"  Have  you  taken  too   much  wine,  gentlemen  ?"  said  Dr^\ 
Shrapnel. 

Cecil  put  this  impertinence  aside  with  a  graceful  sweep  of 
his  fingers.     "You  attempt  to  elude  me,  sir." 

"  jSTot  I !     You  mention  some  lady." 

"  Exactly.     A  young  lady." 

"  What  is  the  name  of  the  lady  ?'* 

"  Oh  !  You  ask  the  name  of  the  lady.  And  I  too.  What 
is  it  ?     I  have  heard  two  or  three  names." 

"Then  you  have  heard  villanies." 

"  Denham,  Jenny  Denham,  Miss  Jenny  Denham,"  said 
Palmet,  rejoiced  at  the  opportunity  of  trumpeting  her  name 
so  that  she  should  not  fail  to  hear  it. 

"  I  stake  my  reputation  I  have  heard  her  called  Shrapnel 
— Miss  Shrapnel,"  said  Cecil. 

The  doctor  glanced  hastily  from  one  to  the  other  of  his 
visitors.  "  The  young  lady  is  my  ward  ;  I  am  her  guardian," 
he  said. 

Cecil  pursed  his  mouth.  "  I  have  heard  her  called  your 
niece." 

"  Niece — ward ;  she  is  a  lady  by  birth  and  education,  in 
manners,  accomplishments,  and  character ;  and  she  is  under 
my  protection,"  cried  Dr.  Shrapnel. 

Cecil  bowed.  "  So  you  are  for  gentle  birth  ?  I  forgot : 
you  are  for  morality  too,  and  for  praying  ;  exactly  ;  I  recol- 
lect. But  now  let  me  tell  you,  entirely  with  the  object  of 
conciliation,  my  particular  desire  is  to  see  the  young  lady, 
in  your  presence  of  course,  and  endeavour  to  persuade  her, 
as  I  have  very  little  doubt  I  shall  do,  assuming  that  you 
give  me  fair  play,  to  exercise  her  influence,  on  this  occasion 
contrary  to  yours,  and  save  my  cousin  Captain  Beauchamp 
from  a  fresh  misunderstanding  with  his  uncle  Mr.  Romfrey. 
Now,  sir;  now,  there  !" 

"  You  will  not  see  Miss  Denham  with  my  sanction  ever," 
said  Dr.  Shrapnel. 

"  Oh  !      Then  I   perceive   your   policy.      Mark,    sir,   my 

t2 


276 

assumption  was  fhat  tlie  young  lady  would,  on  hearing  my 
representations,  exert  herself  to  heal  the  breach  between 
Captain  Beauchamp  and  his  family.  You  stand  in  the 
way.  You  treat  me  as  you  treated  the  lady  iwho  came  here 
formerly  to  wrest  your  dupe  from  your  clutches.  If  I  mis- 
take not,  she  saw  the  young  lady  you  acknowdedge  to  be 
your  ward." 

Dr.  Shrapnel  flashed  back  :  "  I  acknowledge  ?  Mercy  and 
justice  !  is  there  no  peace  with  the  man  ?  You  walk  here 
to  me,  I  can't  yet  guess  why,  from  a  town  where  I  have 
enemies,  and  every  scandal  flies  touching  me  and  mine  ;  and 
you "  He  stopjDcd  short  to  master  his  anger.  He  sub- 
dued it  so  far  as  to  cloak  it  in  an  attemjit  to  speak  reason- 
mgly,  as  angry  men  sometimes  deceive  themselves  in  doing, 
despite  the  good  maxim  for  the  wrathful — speak  not  at  all. 
"  See,"  said  he,  "  I  was  never  married.  My  dear  friend 
dies,  and  leaves  me  his  child  to  protect  and  rear ;  and 
though  she  bears  her  father's  name,  she  is  most  wrongly  and 
foully  made  to  share  the  blov>K  levelled  at  her  guardian. 
Ay,  have  at  me,  all  of  you,  as  much  as  you  will !  Hold  off 
from  her.  Weie  it  true,  the  cowardice  would  be  not  a  whit 
the  smaller.  Why,  casting  a  stone  like  that,  were  it  the 
size  of  a  pebble  and  the  weight  of  a  glance,  is  to  toss  the 
whole  cowaidly  world  on  an  innocent  young  girl.  And  why 
suspect  evil  ?  You  talk  of  that  lady  who  paid  me  a  visit 
here  once,  and  whom  I  treated  becomingly,  I  swear.  I 
never  do  otherwise.  She  was  a  handsome  woman ;  and 
what  was  she  ?  The  housekeeper  of  Captain  Beauchamp's 
ancle.  Hear  me,  if  yon  please  !  To  go  with  the  world,  I 
have  as  good  a  right  to  suppose  the  worst  of  an  attractive 
lady  in  that  situation  as  _»*iu  regarding  my  ward:  better 
warrant  for  scandalizing,  1  'think ; — to  go  with  the  world. 
But  now " 

Cecil  checked  him,  ejaculating,  "Thank  you,  Dr.  Shrapnel; 
I  thank  you  most  cordially,"  with  a  shining  smile.  "  Stay, 
sir  !  no  more.  I  take  my  leave  of  you.  Not  another  word. 
No  'buts!'  I  recognize  that  conciliation  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion :  you  are  the  natural  protector  of  poachers,  and  you 
will  not  grant  me  an  interview  with  the  young  lady  you 
call  your  ward,  that  I  may  represent  to  her,  as  a  person  we 
presume  to  have  a  chance  of  moving  yon,  how  easily — I 
am  determined  you    shall   hear   me,   Dr.    Shrapnel! — how 


THE  BA1T]NG  OF  DR.   SHRAPNEL.  277 

easily  the  position  of  Captain  Beaucliamp  may  become  pre- 
carious with  his  uTicle  Mr.  Romfrev.  And  let  me  add — 
*  but '  and  'but '  me  till  Doomsday,  sir! — if  you  were — I  do 
hear  you,  sir,  and  you  shall  hear  me — if  you  were  a  younger 
man,  I  say,  I  would  hold  you  answerable  to  me  for  your 
scandalous  and  disgraceful  insinuations." 

Dr.  Shrapnel  was  adroitly  fenced  and  over-shouted.  He 
shrugged,  stuttered,  swayed,  wagged  a  bulrush-head,  flapped 
his  elbows,  puffed  like  a  swimmer  in  the  breakers,  tried 
many  times  to  expostulate,  and  finding  the  ellbrt  useless, 
for  his  adversary  was  copious  and  commanding,  relapsed, 
eying  him  as  an  object  far  removed. 

Cecil  rounded  one  of  his  perplexingly  empty  sentences 
and  turned  on  his  heel. 

"War,  then  !"  he  said. 

"  As  you  like,"  retorted  the  doctor. 

"  Oh  !  Very  good.  Good  evening."  Cecil  slightly  lifted 
his  hat,  with  the  short  projection  of  the  head  of  the  stately 
peacock  in  its  walk,  and  passed  out  of  the  garden.  Lord 
Palmet,  deeply  disappointed  and  mystified,  went  after  him, 
leaving  Dr.  Shrapnel  to  shorten  his  garden  walk  with 
enormous  long  strides. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  didn't  manage  the  old  boy,"  Palmet  com- 
plained. "  They're  people  who  have  tea  in  their  gardens ; 
we  might  have  sat  down  with  them  and  talked,  the  best 
friends  in  the  world,  and  come  again  to-morrow :  might 
have  called  her  Jenny  in  a  week.  She  didn't  show  her 
pretty  nose  at  any  of  the  windows." 

His  companion  pooh-poohed  and  said  :  "  Foh  !  I'm  afraid 
I  permitted  myself  to  lose  my  self-command  for  a  moment." 

Palmet  sung  out  an  amorous  j^ouplet  to  console  himself. 
Captain  Baskelett  respected  the  poetic  art  for  its  magical 
power  over  woman's  virtue,  but  he  disliked  hearing  vei-ses, 
and  they  were  ill-suited  to  Palmet.  He  abused  his  friend 
roundly,  telling  him  it  was  contemptible  to  be  quoting 
verses.     He  was  irritable  still. 

He  declared  himself  nevertheless  much  refreshed  by  his 
visit  to  Dr.  Shrapnel.  "  We  shall  have  to  sleep  to-night  in 
this  unhallowed  town,  but  I  needn't  be  off  to  Huldesbury  in 
the  morning;  I've  done  my  business.  I  shall  write  to  the 
baron  to-night,  and  we  can  cross  the  water  to-morrow  irs 
time  for  operations." 


278 

The  letter  to  Mr.  Romfrey  was  composed  before  midnight. 
It  was  a  long  one,  and  when  lie  had  finished  it,  Cecil 
remembered  that  the  act  of  composition  had  been  assisted 
by  a  cigar  in  his  month,  and  Mr.  Romfrej  detested  the 
smell  of  tobacco.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  write 
the  letter  over  again,  somewhat  more  briefly :  it  ran  thus: — 

"  Thinking  to  kill  two  birds  at  a  blow,  I  went  yesterday 
with  Palmet  after  the  dinner  at  this  place  to  Shrapnel's 
house,  where,  as  I  heard,  I  stood  a  chance  of  catching  friend 
I^evil.  The  young  person  living  under  the  man's  protection 
was  absent,  and  so  was  the  'poor  dear  commander,'  perhaps 
attending  on  his  bull.  Shrapnel  said  he  was  expecting  him. 
I  write  to  you  to  confess  I  thought  myself  a  cleverer  fellow 
than  I  am.  I  talked  to  Shrapnel  and  tried  hard  to  reason 
with  him.  I  hope  I  can  keep  my  temper  under  oi-dinary 
circumstances.  You  will  undei-stand  that  it  required 
remarkable  restraint  when  I  make  you  acquainted  with  the 
fact  that  a  lady's  name  was  introduced,  which,  as  your 
representative  in  relation  to  her,  I  was  bound  to  defend  from 
a  gratuitous  and  scoundrelly  aspersion.  Shrapnel's  epistle 
to  '  brave  Beauchamp '  is  Church  hymnification  in  coin- 
parison  with  his  conversation.  He  is  indubitably  one  of  the 
greatest  ruffians  of  his  time. 

"I  took  the  step  with  the  best  of  intentions,  and  all  I  can 
plead  is  that  I  am  not  a  diplomatist  of  sixty.  His  last  word 
was  that  he  is  for  war  with  us.  As  far  as  we  men  are  con- 
cerned it  is  of  small  importance.  I  should  think  that  the 
sort  of  society  he  would  scandalize  a  lady  in  is  not  much  to 
be  feared.  I  have  given  him  his  warning.  He  tops  me 
by  about  a  head,  and  loses  his  temper  every  two  minutes.  I 
could  have  drawn  him  out  deliciously  if  he  had  not  rather 
disturbed  mine.  By  this  time  my  equanimity  is  restored. 
The  only  thing  I  apprehend  is  your  displeasure  with  me  for 
having  gone  to  the  man.  I  have  done  no  good,  and  it  pre- 
vents me  from  running  over  to  Holdesbury  to  see  T^evil,  for 
if  '  shindy  letters,'  as  you  call  them,  are  bad.  shindy  meetings 
are  worse.  I  should  be  telling  him  my  opinion  of  Shrapnel, 
he  would  be  firing  out,  I  should  retort,  he  would  yell,  I 
should  snap  my  fingers,  and  he  would  go  into  convulsions. 
I  am  convinced  that  a  cattle-breeder  ought  to  keep  himself 
particularlv  calm.  So  unless  I  have  further  orders  from 
you  I  refrain  from  going. 


SHOWING  A  CHIVALROUS  GENTLEMAN.  279 

*'  The  dinner  was  enthusiastic.  I  sat  three  hours  among 
my  Commons,  they  on  me  for  that  length  of  time — fatiguing, 
but  a  duty/" 

Cecil  subscribed  his  name  with  the  warmest  affection 
toward  his  uncle. 

The  brevity  of  the  second  letter  had  not  brought  him 
nearer  to  the  truth  in  rescinding  the  picturesque  accessories 
of  his  altercation  with  Dr.  Shrapnel,  but  it  veraciously 
expressed  the  sentiments  he  felt,  and  that  was  the  palpable 
truth  for  him. 

He  posted  the  letter  next  morning. 


CHA.PTER  XXXI. 

SHOWING  A  CHIVALROUS  GENTLEMAN  SET  IN  MOTION. 

About  noon  the  day  following,  on  board  the  steam-yacht 
of  the  Countess  of  Menai,  Cecil  was  very  much  astonished 
to  see  Mr.  Romfrey  descending  into  a  boat  hard  by,  fi'ora 
Grancey  Lespel's  hired  cutter.  Steam  was  up,  and  the 
countess  was  off  for  a  cruise  in  the  Channel,  as  it  was  not  a 
race-day,  but  seeing  Mr.  Romfrey's  hand  raised,  she  spoke  to 
Cecil,  and  immediately  gave  orders  to  wait  for  the  boat. 
This  lady  was  a  fervent  admirer  of  the  knightly  gentle- 
man, and  had  reason  to  like  him,  for  he  had  once  been  her 
champion.  Mr.  Romfrej^  mounted  the  steps,  received  her 
u- -eeting,  and  beckoned  to  Cecil.  He  carried  a  gold-headed 
ijorse-whip  under  his  arm.  Lady  Menai  would  gladly  have 
persuaded  him  to  be  one  of  her  company  for  the  day's 
voyage,  but  he  said  he  had  business  in  Bevisham,  and 
moving  aside  w^ith  Cecil,  put  the  question  to  him  abruptly: 
"  What  were  the  words  used  by  Shrapnel  ?" 

"  The  identical  words  ?"  Captain  Baskelett  asked.  He 
could  have  tripped  out  the  words  with  the  fluency  of  ancient 
historians  relating  what  great  kings,  ambassadors,  or  Generals 
may  well  have  uttered  on  State  occasions,  but  if  you  want 
the  identical  words,  who  is  to  rememher  them  the  day  after 
they  have  been  delivered?  He  said:  "Well,  as  for  the 
identical   words,   I  really,  and  I  was  tolerably  excited,  sir, 


280  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

and  upon  my  honour,  tlie  identical  words  are  rather  difficult 
to  .  .  ."  He  glanced  at  the  horsewhip,  and  pricked  by  the 
sight  of  it  to  proceed,  thought  it  good  to  soften  the  matter 
if  possible.  "  I  don't  quite  recollect  ...  I  wrote  off  to  you 
rather  hastily.     I  think  he  said — but  Palmet  was  there." 

"  Shrapnel  spoke  the  words  before  Lord  Palmet  ?"  said 
Mr.  Romfrey  austerely. 

Captain  Baskelett  summoned  Palmet  to  come  near,  and 
inquired  of  him  what  he  had  heard  Shrapnel  say,  suggesting : 
"He  spoke  of  a  handsome  woman  for  a  housekeeper,  and  all 
the  world  knew  her  character  ?" 

Mr.  Komfrey  cleared  his  throat. 

"  Or  knew  she  had  no  character/*  Cecil  pursued  in  a  fit 
of  gratified  spleen,  in  scorn  of  the  woman.  "  Don't  you 
recollect  his  accent  in  pronouncing  houf^eliecper  ?'" 

The  menacing  thunder  sounded  from  i\Ir.  Romfrey.  He 
was  patient  in  appearance,  and  waited  for  Cecil's  witness  to 
corroborate  the  evidence. 

It  happened  (and  here  we  arc  ii  one  of  the  circles  of  small 
things  producing  great  consequences,  which  have  inspiied 
diminutive  philosophers  with  ironical  visions  of  histoiy  and 
the  littleness  of  man),  it  happened  that  Lord  Palmet,  the 
humanest  of  young  aristocrats,  well-disposed  toward  the 
entire  world,  especially  to  women,  also  to  men  in  any 
way  related  to  pretty  women,  had  jnst  lit  a  cis^ar,  and  it 
was  a  cigar  that  he  had  been  recommended  to  try  tlie  flavour 
of;  and  though  he,  having  his  wits  about  him,  was  fully 
aware  that  shipboard  is  no  good  place  for  a  ti-ial  of  the 
delicacy  of  tobacco  in  the  leaf,  he  had  begun  puffing  and 
sniffing  in  a  critical  spirit,  and  scarcely  knew  for  the 
moment  what  to  decide  as  to  this  particular  cigar.  He 
remembered,  however,  Mr.  Romfrey 's  objection  to  tobacco. 
Imagining  that  he  saw  the  expression  of  a  profound  distaste 
in  that  gentleman's  more  than  usually  serious  face,  he  hesi- 
tated between  casting  the  cigar  into  the  water  and  retaining 
it.  He  decided  upon  the  latter  course,  and  held  the  cigar 
behind  his  back,  bowing  to  Mr.  Romfrey  at  about  a  couple 
of  yards  distance,  and  saying  to  Cecil,  "Housekeeper;  yes, 
I  remember  hearing  housekeeper.  I  think  so.  Housekeeper? 
yes,  oh  yes." 

"And  handsome  housekeepers  were  doubtful  characters," 
Captain  Baskelett  prompted  him. 


SHOWING  A  CHIVALROUS  GENTLEMAN.  281 

Palmet  langlied  out  a  single  "  Ha  !"  that  seemed  to  excuse 
him  for  lounging  away  to  the  forepart  of  the  vessel,  where 
he  tugged  at  his  fine  specimen  of  a  cigar  to  rekindle  it,  and 
discharged  it  with  a  wry  grimace,  so  delicate  is  the  flavour 
of  that  weed,  and  so  adversely  ever  is  it  affected  by  a  breeze 
and  a  moist  atmosphere.  He  could  then  retrirn  undivided 
in  his  mind  to  Mr.  E-omfrey  and  Cecil,  but  the  subject  was 
not  resumed  in  his  presence. 

The  Countess  of  Menai  steamed  into  Bevisham  to  land 
Mr.  Romfrey  there.  "  I  can  be  out  in  the  Channel  any  day  ; 
it  is  not  every  day  that  I  see  you,"  she  said,  in  support  of 
her  proposal  to  take  him  over. 

They  sat  together  conversing,  apart  from  the  rest  of  the 
company,  until  they  sighted  Bevisham,  when  Mr.  Romfrey 
stood  up,  and  a  little  crowd  of  men  came  round  him  to  enjoy 
his  famous  racy  talk.  Captain  Baskelett  offered  to  land 
with  him.  He  declined  companionship.  Dropping  her  band 
in  his  the  countess  asked  him  what  he  had  to  do  in  that 
town,  and  he  replied,  "  I  have  to  demand  an  apology." 

Answering  the  direct  look  of  his  eyes,  she  said,  "  Oh,  I 
shall  not  speak  of  it." 

Jn  his  younger  days,  if  the  rumour  was  correct,  he  had 
done  the  same  on  her  account. 

He  stepped  into  the  boat,  and  presently  they  saw  him 
mount  the  pier-steps,  with  the  riding-whip  under  his  arm, 
his  head  more  than  commonly  bent,  a  noticeable  point  in  a 
man  of  his  tall  erect  figure.  The  ladies  and  some  of  the 
gentlemen  thought  he  was  looking  particularly  grave,  even 
sorrowful. 

Lady  Menai  inquired  of  Captain  Baskelett  whether  he 
knew  the  nature  of  his  uncle's  business  in  Bevisham,  the 
town  he  despised. 

What  could  Cecil  say  but  no  ?  His  uncle  had  not  im- 
parted it  to  him. 

She  was  flattered  in  being  the  sole  confidante,  and  said  no 
more. 

The  sprightly  ingenuity  of  Captain  Baskelett's  mind 
would  have  informed  him  of  the  nature  of  his  uncle's  expedi- 
tion, we  may  be  sure,  had  he  put  it  to  the  trial ;  for  Mr. 
Romfrey  was  as  plain  to  read  as  a  rudimentary  sum  in 
arithmetic,  and  like  the  tracings  of  a  pedigree-map  his  pre- 
liminary steps  to  deeds  were  seen  pointing  on  their  issue  iu 


282  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEK. 

lines  of  straight  descent.  But  Cecil  could  protest  that  he  was 
not  bound  to  know,  and  considering  that  he  was  neither 
bound  to  know  nor  to  speculate,  he  determined  to  stand  on  his 
right.  So  effectually  did  he  accomplish  the  task,  that  he 
was  frequently  surprised  during  the  evening  and  the  night 
by  the  effervescence  of  a  secret  exultation  rising  imp-like 
within  him,  that  was,  he  assured  himself,  perfectly  ■unac- 
countable. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

AN  EFFORT  TO  CONQUER  CECILIA  IN  BEAUCHAMP's  FASHION. 

The  day  after  Mr.  Romfrey's  landing  in  Bevisham  a  full 
South-wester  stretched  the  canvas  of  yachts  of  all  classes, 
schoonei',  cutter  and  yawl,  on  the  lively  green  water  between 
the  island  and  the  forest  shore.  Cecilia's  noble  schooner 
was  sure  to  be  out  in  such  a  ringing  breeze,  for  the  pride  of 
it  as  well  as  the  pleasure.  She  landed  her  father  at  the 
Club  steps,  and  tli(}n  bore  away  Eastward  to  sight  a  cutter 
race,  the  breeze  beginning  to  stiffen.  Looking  back  against 
sun  and  wind,  she  saw  herself  pursued  by  a  saucy  little  15- 
ton  craft  that  had  been  in  lier  track  since  she  left  the  Otley 
river  before  noon,  dipping  and  straining,  with  every  inch  of 
sail  set ;  as  mad  a  stei-n  chase  as  ever  was  witnessed :  and 
who  could  the  man  at  the  tiller,  clad  cap-a-pie  in  tarpaulin, 
be  ?  She  led  him  dancing  away,  to  prove  bis  i-esoluteness 
and  laugh  at  him.  She  bad  the  powerful  wings,  and  a  glory 
in  them  coming  of  this  pursuit :  her  triumph  was  delicious, 
until  the  occasional  sparkle  of  the  tarpaulin  was  lost,  the 
small  boat  appeared  a  motionless  object  far  behind,  and  all 
ahead  of  her  exceedingly  dull,  though  the  race  bung  there 
and  the  crowd  of  sail. 

Cecilia's  transient  flutter  of  coquettry  created  by  the 
animating  air  and  her  (jueenly  flight  was  over.  She  fled 
splendidly  and  she  came  back  graciously.  But  he  refused  her 
open  band,  as  it  were.  He  made  as  if  to  stand  across  her 
tack,  and,  reconsidering  it,  evidently  scorned  his  advantage 
and  challenged  the  stately  vessel  for  a  beat  up  against  the 
wind      It  was  as  pretty  as  a  Court  minuet.     But  presently 


AN  EFFORT  TO  CONQUEE  CECILIA.  283 

Cecilia  stood  too  far  on  one  tack,  and  returning  to  the 
centre  of  the  channel,  fonnd  herself  headed  by  seamansliip. 
He  waved  an  ironical  salute  with  his  sou'-wester.  Her 
retort  consisted  in  bringing  her  vessel  to  the  wind,  and 
sending  a  boat  for  him. 

She  did  it  on  the  impulse ;  had  she  consulted  her  wishes 
she  would  rather  have  seen  him  at  his  post,  where  h.e  seemed 
in  his  element,  facing  the  spray  and  cunningl}^  calculating 
to  get  w4nd  and  tide  in  his  favour.  Partly  with  regret  she 
saw  him,  stripped  of  his  tarpaulin,  jump  into  her  boat,  as 
though  she  had  once  more  to  say  farewell  to  sailor  Nevil 
Beauchamp  ;  farewell  the  bright  youth,  the  hero,  the  truo 
servant  of  his  country  ! 

That  feeling  of  hers  changed  when  he  was  on  board.  The 
stirring  cordial  day  had  put  new  breath  in  him. 

"  Should  not  the  flag  be  dipped  ?"  he  said,  looking  up  at 
the  peak,  where  the  white  flag  streamed. 

"Can  you  really  mistake  compassion  for  defeat?"  said 
she,  with  a  smile. 

"  Oh  1  before  the  w^ind  of  course  I  hadn't  a  chance." 

"  How  could  you  be  so  presumptions  as  to  give  chase  ? 
And  who  has  lent  you  that  little  cutter  ?" 

Beauchamp  had  hired  her  for  a  month,  and  he  praised  hei 
sailing,  and  pretended  to  say  that  the  race  was  not 
always  to  the  strong  in  a  stiff  breeze. 

"  But  in  point  of  fact  I  was  bent  on  trying  how  my  boat 
swims,  and  had  no  idea  of  overhauling  you.  To-day  our 
salt-water  lake  is  as  fine  as  the  Mediterranean." 

"  Omitting  the  islands  and  the  jNIediterranean  colour,  it  is. 
I  have  often  told  you  how  I  love  it.  1  have  landed  papa  at 
the  Club.  Are  ^^ou  aware  that  we  meet  you  at  Steynham 
the  day  after  to-morrow  ?" 

"  Well,  we  can  ride  on  the  downs.  The  downs  between 
three  -and  four  of  a  summer's  morning  are  as  lovely  as  any- 
thing in  the  world.  They  have  the  softest  outlines  imaginable 
....  and  remind  me  of  a  friend's  upper  lip  when  she  deigns 
to  smile." 

"  Is  one  to  rise  at  that  hour  to  behold  the  effect  ?  And 
let  me  remind  you  further,  Nevil,  that  the  comparison  of 
nature's  minor  work  beside  her  mighty  is  an  error,  if  you  will 
be  poetical." 

She  cited  a  well-known  instance  of  degradation  in  verse. 


284  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

But  a  young  man  wlio  happens  to  be  intimatelj  acquainted 
with  a  certain  '  dark  eye  in  woman '  will  not  so  lightly  be 
brought  to  consider  that  the  comparison  of  tempestuous  night 
to  the  flashing  of  those  eyes  of  hers  topples  the  scene  head- 
long from  grandeur.  And  if  Beauchamp  remembered  rightly, 
the  scene  was  the  Alps  at  night. 

He  was  prepared  to  contest  Cecilia's  judgement.  At  that 
moment  the  breeze  freshened  and  the  canvas  lifted  :  from  due 
South  the  yacht  swung  her  sails  to  drive  toward  the  West, 
and  Cecilia's  face  and  hair  came  out  golden  in  the  sunlight. 
Speech  was  difficult,  admiration  natural,  so  he  sat  beside 
her,  admiring  in  silence. 

She  said  a  good  word  for  the  smartness  of  his  little  yacht. 

"  This  is  my  first  trial  of  her,"  said  Beauchamp.  "  1  hired 
her  chiefly  to  give  Dr.  Shrapnel  a  taste  of  salt  air.  I've  no 
real  right  to  be  idling  about.  His  ward  ]\Iiss  Denham  is 
travelling  in  Switzerland  ;  the  deai'old  man  is  alone,  and  not 
quite  so  well  as  I  should  wish.  Change  of  scene  will  do  him 
good.  1  shall  land  him  on  the  French  coast  for  a  couple  of 
days,  or  take  him  down  Channel. 

Cecilia  gazed  abstractedly  at  a  passing  schooner. 

*'  He  works  too  hard,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"Who  does?" 

"  Dr.  Shrapnel." 

Some  one  else  whom  we  have  heard  of  works  too  hard,  and 
it  would  be  happy  for  mankind  if  he  did  not. 

Cecilia  named  the  schooner;  an  American  that  had  beaten 
our  crack  yachts.  Beauchamp  spmng  up  to  spy  at  the 
American. 

"  That's  the  Corinne,  is  she  !" 
*^  Yankee  craftiness  on  saltwater  always  excite  d  his  respectful 
attention  as  a  spectator. 

"  And  what  is  the  name  of  jouv  boat,  I^^evil  ?" 

"  The  fool  of  an  owner  calls  her  the  Petrel.  It's  not  that 
I'm  superstitious,  but  to  give  a  boat  a  name  of  bad  augury 
to  sailors  appears  to  me  .  .  .  however,  I've  argued  it  with 
him  and  I  will  have  her  called  the  Cnrleiv.  Carrying  Dr. 
Shrapnel  and  me,  Fetrel  would  be  thought  the  proper  title 
for  her — isn't  that  your  idea  ?" 

He  laughed  and  she  smiled,  and  then  he  became  overcast 
with  his  political  face,  and  said,  "  I  hope  —I  believe — you 
will  alter  your  opinion  of  him.     Can  it  be  an  opinion  when 


AN  EFFORT  TO  CON-QUER  CECILIA.  285 

it's  founcTed  on  nothing  ?  Ton  know  really  notliing  of  him. 
I  have  in  my  pocket  what  I  believe  would  alter  jonr  mind 
about  him  entirely.  I  do  think  so  ;  and  I  think  so  because 
I  feel  you  would  appreciate  his  deep  sincerity  and  real 
nobleness." 

"  Is  it  a  talisman  that  you  have,  ISTevil  ?" 
."  Xo,  it's  a  letter." 

Cecilia's  cheeks  took  fire. 

*'  I  should  so  much  like  to  read  it  to  you,"  said  he. 

*'  Do  not,  please,"  she  replied  with  a  dash  of  supplication 
in  her  voice. 

"  ISTot  the  whole  of  it — an  extract  here  and  there  ?  I  want 
you  so  much  to  understand  him." 

"  I  am  sure  I  should  not." 

"  Let  me  try  you  !" 

*'  Pray  do  not." 

**  ]\Ierely  to  show  you  .  .  .  ." 

"  But,  jNTevil,  I  do  not  wish  to  understand  him." 

"  But  you  have  only  to  listen  for  a  few  minutes,  and  1 
want  you  to  know  what  good  reason  I  have  to  reverence  him 
as  a  teacher  and  a  friend." 

Cecilia  looked  at  Beauchamp  with  wonder.  A  confused 
recollection  of  the  contents  of  the  letter  declaimed  at  Mount 
Laurels  in  Captain  Baskelett's  absurd  sing-song,  surged  up 
in  her  mind  revoltingly.  She  signified  a  decided  negative. 
Something  of  a  shudder  accompanied  the  expression  of  it. 

But  he  as  little  as  any  member  of  the  Romfrey  blood  was 
\  framed  to  let  the  word  no  stand  quietly  opposed  to  him. 
•oAnd  the  no  that  a  woman  utters !  It  calls  for  wholesome 
tyranny.  Those  old,  those  hoar-old  duellists.  Yes  and  No, 
have  rarely  been  better  matched  than  in  Beauchamp  and 
Cecilia.  For  if  he  was  obstinate  in  attack  she  had  great 
resisting  power.  Twice  to  listen  to  that  letter  was  beyond 
her  endurance.  Indeed  it  cast  a  shadow  on  him  and  dis- 
figured him;  and  when,  affecting  to  plead,  he  said  :  "You 
must  listen  to  it  to  please  me,  for  my  sake,  Cecilia,"  she 
answered  :  "  It  is  for  your  sake,  JSTevil,  I  decline  to." 

"Why,  what  do  you  know  of  it  ?"  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  know  the  kind  of  writing  it  would  be." 

''  How  do  you  know  it  ?" 

"  I  have  heard  of  some  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's  opinions." 

**  You  imagine  him  to  be  subversive,  intolerant,  immoral, 


286  BEAUCHAMP*S  CAREER. 

and  the  rest !  all  that  comes  under  your  word  revolu- 
tionary." 

"  Possibly ;  but  I  must  defend  myself  from  hearing  what 
I  know  will  be  certain  to  annoy  me." 

"  But  he  is  the  reverse  of  immoral :  and  I  intend  to  read 
3'ou  parts  of  the  letter  to  prove  to  you  that  he  is  not  the 
man  you  would  blame,  but  I,  and  that  if  ever  I  am  worthier 
.  .  .  worthier  of  you,  as  I  hope  to  become,  it  will  be  owing 
to  this  admirable  and  good  old  man." 

Cecilia  trembled :  she  was  touched  to  the  quick.  Yet  it 
was  not  pleasant  to  her  to  be  wooed  obliquely,  through  Dr. 
Shrapnel. 

She  recognized  the  very  letter,  crowned  with  many  stamps, 
thick  with  many  pages,  in  Beauchamp's  hands. 

"  When  you  are  at  Steynham  you  will  probably  hear  my 
uncle  Everard's  version  of  this  letter,"  he  said.  "  The  baron 
chooses  to  think  everything  fair  in  war,  and  the  letter  came 
accidentally  into  his  hands  with  the  seal  broken ;  well,  he 
read  it.  And  Cecilia,  you  can  fancy  the  sort  of  stuff  he 
would  make  of  it.  Apart  from  that,  I  want  you  particularly 
to  know  how  much  I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  Shrapnel.  Won't 
you  learn  to  like  him  a  little  ?  Won't  you  tolerate  him  ? — 
I  could  almost  say,  for  my  sake !  He  and  I  are  at  variance 
on  certain  points,  but  taking  him  altogether,  I  am  under 
deeper  obligations  to  him  than  to  any  man  on  earth.  He 
has  found  where  I  bend  and  waver." 

"  I  recognize  your  chivalry,  Nevil." 

"  He  has  done  his  best  to  train  me  to  be  of  some  service. 
Where's  the  chivalry  in  owning  a  debt?  He  is  one  of  our 
true  warriors  ;  fearless  and  blameless.  I  have  had  my  heroes 
before.  You  know  how  I  loved  Roboi-t  Hall  :  his  death  is  a 
gap  in  my  life.  He  is  a  light  for  figiiting  Englishmen — 
who  fight  with  the  sword.  But  the  scale  of  the  war,  the 
cause,  and  the  end  in  view,  laise  Dr.  Shrapnel  above  the 
bravest  I  have  ever  had  the  luck  to  meet.  Soldiers  and 
sailors  have  their  excitement  to  keep  them  up  to  the  mark ; 
praise  and  rewards.  He  is  in  his  eight-and- sixtieth  year, 
and  he  has  never  received  anything  but  obloquy  for  his 
pains.  Half  of  the  small  fortune  he  has  goes  in  charities 
and  subscriptions.  Will  that  touch  you  ?  But  I  think  little 
of  that,  and  so  does  he.  Charit}^  is  a  common  duty.  The 
dedication  of  a  man's  life  and  whole  mind  to  a  cause,  there's 


AK  EFFORT  TO  CONQUER  CECILIA.  287 

heroism.     I  wish   I   were   eloquent ;   I   wish   I   could  move 

Cecilia  turned  her  face  to  him.  "  I  listen  to  jou  with 
pleasui-e,  Nevil ;  but  please  do  not  read  the  letter." 

"  Yes  ;  a  paragraph  or  two  I  must  read." 

She  rose. 

He  was  promptly  by  her  side.  "  If  I  say  I  ask  you  for 
one  sign  that  you  care  for  me  in  some  degree  ?" 

'•  I  have  not  for  a  moment  ceased  to  be  your  friend,  Xevil, 
since  I  was  a  child." 

"  But  if  you  allow  yourself  to  be  so  prejudiced  against  my 
best  friend  that  you  will  not  bear  a  word  of  his  writing,  are 
you  friendly  r" 

"  Feminine,  and  obstinate,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  Give  me  your  eyes  an  instant.  I  know  you  think  me 
reckless  and  lawless  :  now  is  not  that  true  ?  You  doubt 
whether,  if  a  lady  gave  me  her  hand  I  should  hold  to  it  in 
perfect  faith.  Or,  ])erliaps  not  that :  but  you  do  suspect  I 
should  be  capable  of  every  sophism  under  the  sun  to  per- 
suade  a  woman  to  break  her  faith,  if  it  suited  me  :  supi^osing 
some  passion  to  be  at  work.  •*'^Ien  who  are  open  to  passion 
have  to  be  taught  reflection  before  they  distinguish  between 
the  woman  they  should  sue  for  love  because  she  would  be 
their  best  mate,  and  the  woman  who  has  thrown  a  spell  on 
them.  JSTow,  what  I  beg  you  to  let  me  read  you  in  this 
letter  is  a  truth  nobly  stated  that  has  gone  into  my  blood, 
and  changed  me.  It  cannot  fail,  too,  in  changing  your 
opinion  of  Dr.  Shrapnel.  It  makes  me  wretched  that  you 
should  be  divided  from  me  in  your  ideas  of  him.  I,  you 
see — anrl  I  confess  I  think  it  my  chief  title  to  honour — 
reverence  him." 

"  I  regret  that  I  am  unable  to  utter  the  words  of  Euth,'' 
said  Cecilia,  in  a  low  voice.  She  felt  rather  tremulously  ; 
opposed  only  to  the  letter  and  the  writer  of  it,  not  at  all  to 
Beauchamp,  except  on  account  of  his  idolatry  of  the  wicked 
revolutionist.  Far  from  having  a  sense  of  02:»position  to 
Beauchamp,  she  pitied  him  for  his  infatuation,  and  in  her 
lofty  mental  serenitj  she  warmed  to  him  for  the  seeming 
boyishness  of  his  constant  and  extravagant  worship  of  the 
man,  though  such  an  enthusiasm  cast  shadows  on  his 
intellect. 

He  was  reading  a  sentence  of  tiie  le tter,^<^'^~[Jg^ 

^       OF  THE     ^y 


UNIVERSITY 
C/\liforH\L 


288  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAPcEER. 

"  I  hear  notliing  but  the  breeze,  Xevil,"  she  said. 

The  breeze  fluttered  the  letter-sheets  :  they  threatened  to 
fly.     Cecilia  stepped  two  paces  away. 

"  Hark ;  there  is  a  military  band  playing  on  the  pier," 
said  she.  *f  I  am  so  fond  of  hearing  music  a  little  off 
shore." 

Beauchamp  consigned  the  letter  to  his  pocket. 

*'  You  are  not  offended,  JSTevil  ?" 

"  Dear  me,  no.  You  haven't  a  mind  for  tonics,  that's 
all." 

"  Healthy  persons  rarely  have,"  she  remarked,  and  asked 
him,  smiling  softly,  whether  he  had  a  mind  for  mnsic. 

His  insensibility  to  music  was  curious,  considering  how 
impressionable  he  was  to  verse,  and  to  songs  of  birds.  He 
listened  with  an  oppressed  look,  as  to  something  the  par- 
ticular secret  of  which  had  to  be  reached  by  a  determined 
effort  of  sympath}^  for  those  whom  it  affected.  He  liked  it 
if  she  did,  and  said  he  liked  it,  reiterated  that  he  liked  it, 
clearly  trying  hard  to  comprehend  it,  as  unmoved  by  the 
swell  and  sigh  of  the  resonant  brass  as  a  man  could  be, 
while  her  romantic  spirit  thrilled  to  it,  and  was  bountiful  in 
glowing  visions  and  in  tenderness. 

There  hung  her  hand.  She  would  not  have  refused  to 
yield  it.  The  hero  of  her  childhood,  the  friend  of  her 
womanhood,  and  her  hero  still,  might  have  taken  her  with 
half  a  word. 

Beauchamp  was  thinking:  She  can  listen  to  that  brass 
band,  and  she  shuts  her  ears  to  this  letter  ! 

The  reading  of  it  would  have  been  a  prelude  to  the  open- 
ing of  his  heart  to  her,  at  the  same  time  that  it  vindicated 
his  dear  and  honoured  master,  as  he  called  Dr.  Shrapnel. 
To  speak,  without  the  explanation  of  his  previous  reticence 
which  this  letter  would  afford,  seemed  useless :  even  the 
desire  to  speak  was  absent,  passion  being  absent. 

"  I  see  papa ;  he  is  getting  into  a  boat  with  some  one,** 
said  Cecilia,  and  gave  orders  for  the  yacht  .to  stand  in 
toward  the  Club  steps.  "  Do  you  know,  Nevil,'*  the  Italian 
common  peoj^le  are  not  so  subject  to  the  charm  of  music  as 
other  races.  They  have  more  of  the  gift,  and  I  tliink  less 
of  the  feeling.  You  do  not  hear  much  music  in  Italy.  I 
remember  in  the  year  of  Revolution  there  was  danger  of  a 
rising  in  some  Austrian  city,  and  a  colonel  of  a  regiment 


AN  EFFORT  TO  CONQUER  CECILIA.  289 

commanded  his  band  to  play.     The  mob  was  put  in  good 
humour  immediately." 

"It's  a  soporific,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"  You  would  not  rather  have  had  them  rise  to  be  slaugh- 
tered ?" 

"  Would  you  have  them  waltzed  into  perpetual  ser- 
vility ?" 

Cecilia  hummed,  and  suggested:  "If  one  can  have  them 
happy  in  any  way  ?" 

"  Then  the  day  of  destruction  may  almost  be  dated.** 

"^N^evil,  your  terrible  view  of  life  mast  be  false." 

"I  make  it  oufc  worse  to  you  than  to  anyone  else,  because 
I  want  our  minds  to  be  united." 

"  Give  me  a  respite  now  and  then." 

"  With  all  my  heart.  A.nd  forgive  me  for  beating  my 
drum.  I  seC/what  others  don't  see,  or  else  I  feel  it  more  ;  I 
don't  know;^but  it  appears  to  me  our  co.iutry  needs  rousing 
if  it's  to  live.  There's  a  division  between  poor  and  rich 
that  you  have  no  concejDtion  of,  and  it  can't  safely  be  left 
unnoticed.     I've  done." 

He  looked  at  her  and  saw  tears  on  her  under-lids. 

"  My  dearest  Cecilia  !" 

"  Music  makes  me  childish,"  said  she. 

Her  father  was  approaching  in  the  boat.  Beside  him  sat 
the  Earl  of  Lockrace,  latterly  classed  among  the  suitors  of 
the  lady  of  Mount  Laurels. 

A  few  minutes  remained  to  Beauchamp  of  his  lost  oppor- 
tunity. Instead  of  seizing  them  with  his  usual  prompti- 
tude, he  let  them  slip,  painfully  mindful  of  his  treatment  of 
her  last  year  after  the  drive  into  Bevisham,  when  she  was 
England,  and  Renee  holiday  France. 

This  feeling  he  fervently  translated  into  the  reflection 
that  the  bride  who  would  bring  him  beauty  and  wealth, 
and  her  especial  gift  of  tender  womanliness,  was  not  yet  so 
thoroughly  mastered  as  to  gi-ant  her  husband  his  just  pre- 
valence with  her,  or  even  indeed  his  complete  independence 
of  action,  without  which  life  itself  w^as  not  desireable. 

Colonel  Halkett  stared  at  Beauchamp  as  if  he  had  risen 
from  the  deep. 

"  Have  you  been  in  that  town  this  morning  ?**  was  one  of 
his  first  questions  to  him  w^hen  he  stood  on  board. 

"I  came  through  it,"  said  Beauchamp,  and  pointed  to  his 

u 


290  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

liftle  cutter  labouring  in  the  distance.  "  She's  mine  for  a 
month  ;  I  came  from  Holdesbmy  to  try  her;"  and  then  he 
stated  how  he  had  danced  attendance  on  the  schooner  for  a 
couple  of  hours  before  any  notice  was  taken  of  him,  and 
Cecilia  with  her  graceful  humour  held  up  his  presumption 
to  scorn. 

Her  father  was  eyeing  Beauchamp  narrowly,  and  appeared 
troubled. 

"  Did  you  see  Mr.  Romfrey  yesterday,  or  this  morning  ?" 
the  colonel  asked  him,  mentioning  that  Mr.  Romfrey  had 
been  somewhere  about  the  island  yesterday,  at  which  Beau- 
champ  expressed  astonishment,  for  his  uncle  Everard  seldom 
visited  a  yachting  station. 

Colonel  Halkett  exchanged  looks  with  Cecilia.  Hers  were 
inquiring,  and  he  confirmed  her  side-glance  at  Beauchamp. 
She  raised  li(!r  brows  ;  he  nodded,  to  signify  that  there  was 
gravity  in  the  case.  Here  the  signalling  stopped  short;  she 
had  to  carry  on  a  conversation  with  Lord  Lockrace,  one  of 
those  men  who  betray  the  latent  despot  in  an  exhibition  of 
discontentment  unless  they  have  all  a  lady's  hundred  eyes 
attentive  to  their  discourse. 

At  last  Beauchamp  quitted  the  vessel. 

When  he  was  out  of  hearing,  Colonel  Halkett  said  to 
Cecilia  :  "  Grancey  Lespel  tells  me  that  Mr.  Romfrey  called 
on  the  man  Shrapnel  yesterday  evening  at  six  o'clock." 

"  Yes,  papa  ?" 

"  Now  come  and  see  the  fittings  below,"  the  colonel 
addressed  Lord  Lockrace,  and  murmured  to  his  daughter : 
"  And  soundly  horsewhipped  him  !" 

Cecilia  turned  on  the  instant  to  gaze  after  Nevil  Beau- 
champ. She  could  have  wept  for  pity.  Her  father's 
emphasis  on  '  soundly  '  declared  an  approval  of  the  deed,  and 
she  was  chilled  by  a  sickening  abhori'ence  and  dread  of  the 
cruel  brute  in  men,  such  as,  awakened  by  she  knew  not  what, 
had  haunted  her  for  a  year  of  her  girlhood. 

"  And  he  deserved  it  ! "  the  colonel  pursued,  on  emerging 
from  the  cabin  at  Lord  Lockrace's  heels.  "  I've  no  doubt  he. 
richly  deserved  it.  The  writer  of  that  letter  we  heard 
Captain  Baskelett  read  the  other  day  deserves  the  very 
worst  he  gets." 

"  Baskelett  bored  the  Club  the  other  niglit  with  a  letter  of 
a  Radical  fellow,"  said  Lord  Lockiace.     "  Men  who  write 


AN  EFFORT  TO  CONQUER  CECILIA.  291 

that  stuff  should  be  strung  up  and  whipped  hy  the  common 
hangman." 

"  It  was  a  private  letter,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  Public  or  private,  Miss  Halkett." 

Her  mind  flew  back  to  Seymour  Austin  for  the  sense  of 
steadfastness  when  she  heard  such  langruic;'^  as  this,  which, 
taken  in  conjunction  with  Dr.  Shrapnel's,  seemed  to  uncloak 
our  Constitutional  realm  and  show  it  boiling  up  with  the 
frightful  elements  of  primitive  societies. 

"  I  suppose  we  are  but  half  civilized,"  she  said 

"  If  that,"  said  the  earl. 

Colonel  Halkett  protested  that  he  never  conld  quite  make 
out  what  Radicals  were  driving  at. 

"  The  rents,"  Lord  Lockrace  observed  in  the  conclusive 
tone  of  brevity.     He  did  not  stay  very  long. 

The  schooner  was  boarded  subsequently  by  another  noble- 
man, an  Admiral  of  the  Fleet  and  ex-minister  of  the  Whig 
Government,  Lord  Croyston,  who  was  a  friend  of  Mr. 
Romfrey's,  and  thought  well  of  Nevil  Beauchamp  as  a  sea- 
man and  naval  officer,  but  shook  an  old  head  over  him  as  a 
politician.  He  came  to  beg  a  passage  across  the  water  to 
liis  marine  Lodge,  an  accident  having  happened  early  in  the 
morning  to  his  yacht,  the  Ladi/  Violet.  He  was  able  to  com- 
municate the  latest  version  of  the  horsewhipping  of  Dr. 
Shrapnel,  from  which  it  appeared  that  after  Mr.  Romfrey 
had  handsomely  flogged  the  man  he  flung  his  card  on  the 
prostrate  body,  to  let  men  know  who  was  responsible  for  the 
act.  He  expected  that  Mr.  Romfrey  Avould  be  subjected  to 
legal  proceedings.  "  But  if  there's  a  pleasure  worth  pay- 
ing for  it's  the  trouncing  of  a  villain,"  said  he ;  and  he 
had  been  informed  that  Dr.  Shrapnel  was  a  big  one. 
Lord  Croyston's  favourite  country  residence  was  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  old  Mrs.  Beauchamp,  on  the  upper 
Thames.  Speaking  of  Nevil  Beauchamp  a  second  time,  he 
alluded  to  his  relations  with  his  great-aunt,  said  his  pros- 
pects were  bad,  that  she  had  interdicted  her  house  to  him, 
and  was  devoted  to  her  other  great-nephew. 

"And  so  she  should  be,"  said  Colonel  Halkett.  "That's 
a  young  man  who's  an  Englishman  without  French  gun- 
powder notions  in.  his  head.  He  works  for  us  down  at  the 
mine  in  Wales  a  good  part  of  the  year,  and  has  tided  us 

u2 


292  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEE. 

over  a  threatening  strike  there:  gratuitously:  I  can't  get 
him  to  accept  an^-thing.     I  can't  think  why  he  does  it." 

"  He'll  have  plenty,"  said  Lord  Croyston,  levelling  his 
telescope  to  sight  the  racing  cutters. 

Cecilia  fancied  she  descried  N'evil's  Petrel,  dubbed  Curlew, 
to  Eastward,  and  had  a  faint  gladness  in  the  thought  that 
his  knowledge  of  his  uncle  Everard's  deed  of  violence  would 
be  deferred  for  another  two  or  three  hours. 

She  tried  to  persuade  her  father  to  wait  for  Nevil,  and 
invite  him  to  dine  at  Mount  Laurels,  and  break  the  news  to 
him  gently.  Colonel  Halkett  argued  that  in  speaking  of  the 
affair  he  should  certainly  not  commiserate  the  man  who 
had  got  his  deserts,  and  saying  this  he  burst  into  a  petty 
fury  against  the  epistle  of  Dr.  Shrapnel,  which  appeared  to 
be  growing  more  monstrous  in  proportion  to  his  forgetful- 
ness  of  the  details,  as  mountains  gather  vastness  to  the  eye 
at  a  certain  remove.  Though  he  could  not  guess  the  reason 
for  Mr.  Romfrey's  visit  to  Bevdsham,  he  was,  he  said,  quite 
prepared  to  maintain  that  Mr.  llomfrey  had  a  perfect  justi- 
fication for  his  conduct. 

Cecilia  hinted  at  barbarism.  The  colonel  hinted  at  high 
police  duties  that  gentlemen  were  sometimes  called  on  to 
perform  for  the  protection  of  society  .J  "  In  defiance  of  its 
laws  ?"  she  asked  ;  and  he  answered  :  "  Women  must  not  be 
judging  things  out  of  their  sphere,"  with  the  familiar  accent 
on  '  women  '  which  proves  their  inferiorit3^  He  was  rarely 
guilty  of  it  toward  his  daughter.  Evidently  he  had  resolved 
to  back  Mr.  Romfrey  blindly.  That  epistle  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's 
merited  condign  punishment  and  had  met  with  it,  he  seemed 
to  rejoice  in  saying :  and  this  was  his  abstract  of  the  same  : 
"  An  old  charlatan  who  tells  his  dupe  to  pray  every  night  of 
his  life  for  the  beheading  of  kings  and  princes,  and  scattering 
of  the  clergy,  and  disbanding  the  army,  that  he  and  his 
rabble  ma^^  fall  upon  the  wealthy,  and  show  us  numbers 
win  ;  and  he'll  undertake  to  make  them  moral !" 

"  I  wish  we  were  not  going  to  Steynham,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  So  do  I.  Well,  no,  I  don't,"  the  colonel  corrected  him- 
self,  "  no  ;  it's  an  engagement.  I  gave  my  consent  so  far. 
We  shall  see  whether  I^evil  Beau  champ's  a  man  of  any 
sense." 

Her  heart  sank.  This  was  as  much  as  to  let  her  know 
that  if  Nevil  broke  with  his  uncle,    the   treaty   of   unioD 


AN  EFFORT  TO  CONQUER  CECILIA,  2(^3 

between  tlie  two  families,  wliicli  her  father  submitted  to 
entertain  out  of  consideration  for  Mr.  Romfrey,  would  be  at 
an  end. 

The  wind  had  fallen.  Entering  her  river,  Cecilia  gazed 
back  at  the  smooth  broad  water,  and  the  band  of  golden 
l^eams  flung  across  it  from  the  evening  sun  over  the  forest. 
No  little  cutter  was  visible.  She  could  not  write  to  Xevil  to 
bid  him  come  and  concert  with  her  in  what  spirit  to  encounter 
his  uncle  Everard  at  Steynham.  And  guests  would  be  at 
Mount  Laui-els  next  dav;  Lord  Lockrace,  Lord  Croyston,  and 
the  Lespels  ;  she  could  not  drive  down  to  Bevisham  on  the 
chance  of  seeing  hiia.  Nor  was  it  to  be  acknowledged  even 
to  herself  that  she  so  greatly  desired  to  see  him  and  advise 
him.  Vv^hy  not  ?  Because  she  was  one  of  the  artificial 
creatures  called  women  (with  the  accent)  who  dare  not  be 
spontaneous,  and  cannot  act  independently  if  they  would 
continue  to  be  admirable  in  the  world's  eye,  and  who  for  that 
object  must  remain  fixed  on  shelves,  like  other  marketable 
wares,  avoiding  motion  to  avoid  shattering  or  tarnishing. 
This  is  their  fate,  only  in  degree  less  inhuman  than  that  of 
Hellenic  and  Trojan  princesses  offered  up  to  the  Gods,  or 
pretty  slaves  to  the  dealers.  Their  artificiality  is  at  once 
their  bane  and  their  source  of  superior  pride. 

Seymour  Austin  might  have  reason  for  seeking  to  eman- 
cipate them,  she  thought,  and  blushed  in  thought  that  she 
could  never  be  learning  anything  but  from  her  o.vn  imme- 
diate sensations. 

Of  course  it  was  in  her  power  to  write  to  Beauchamp,  just 
as  it  had  been  in  his  to  speak  to  her,  but  the  fire  was  wanting 
in  her  blood  and  absent  from  his  mood,  so  they  were  kept 
apart. 

Her  father  knew  as  little  as   she  what  was  the  positive 
cause   of    Mr.    Romfrey's    chastisement   of    Dr.     Shrapnel. 
"  Cause    enough,    1    don't    doubt,"    he    said,    and    cited  the  , 
mephitic  letter. 

Cecilia  was  not  given  to  suspicions,  or  she  would  have  had 
them  kindled  by  a  certain  wilfulness  in  his  incessant  refer- 
ence to  the  letter,  and  exoneration,  if  not  approval,  of  Mr, 
Romfrey's  conduct. 

How  did  that  chivalrous  gentleman  justify  himself  for 
condescending  to  such  an  extreme  as  the  use  of  personal 
violence  ?     Was  there  a  possibility  of  his  justifying  it  to 


204  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Nevil  ?  Slie  was  most  wretched  in  her  reiteration  of  these 
inquiries,  for,  with  a  heart  suhdued,  she  had  still  a  mind 
whose  habit  of  independeiit  judgement  was  not  to  be  con- 
strained, and  while  she  felt  that  it  was  only  by  siding  with 
Nevil  submissively  and  blindly  in  this  lamentable  case  that 
she  could  hojDe  for  hapjiini'ss,  she  foresaw  the  likelihood  of 
her  not  being  able  to  do  so  as  much  as  he  would  desire  and 
demand.  This  she  took  for  the  protest  of  her  pure  reason. 
In  reality,  grieved  though  she  was  ou  account  of  that  Dr. 
Shrapnel,  her  captive  heart  resented  the  anticipated  challenge 
to  her  to  espouse  his  cause  or  languish. 


CHArTER  XXXIII. 

THE  FIRST  ENCOUNTER  AT  STEYNHAM. 

The  judge  pronouncing  sentence  of  condemnation  on  the 
criminal  is  prover])ial]y  a  sorro\vfu]l3'-minded  man;  and 
still  more  would  he  be  so  had  he  to  undertake  the  part  of 
executioner  as  well.  This  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  the 
simple  pleasures  arc  no  longer  with  uf  ;  it  must  be  a  per- 
sonal enemy  now  to  give  us  any  satisfaction  in  chastising 
and  slaying.  Perhaps  by-and-by  that  will  be  savourless  : 
we  degenerate.  There  is,  nevertheless,  ever  (and  let  nature 
be  praised  for  it)  a  strong  sustainment  in  the  dutiful  exer- 
tion of  our  physical  energies,  and  Mr.  Everard  Romfrey 
experienced  it  after  he  had  fulfilled  his  double  office  on  the 
person  of  Dr.  Shrapnel  by  carrying  out  his  own  decree.  His 
conscience  approved  him  cheerlessly,  as  it  is  the  habit  of 
that  secret  monitor  to  do  when  we  have  no  particular  advan- 
tage coming  of  the  act  we  have  perfoi-med  ;  but  the  righteous 
labour  of  his  arm  gave  him  high  breathing  and  an  appetite. 

He  foresaw  that  he  and  Xevil  Avould  soon  be  having  a 
wrestle  over  the  matter,  hand  and  thigh  ;  but  a  gentleman 
in  the  right  engaged  with  a  fellow  in  the  wrong  has  nothing 
to  apprehend ;  is,  in  fact,  in  the  position  of  a  gamepreserver 
with  a  poacher.  The  nearest  approach  to  gratitication  in 
that  day's  work  which  Mr.  Romfrey  knew  was  offered  by 
the  picture  of  Xevil's  lamentable  attitude  above  his  dirty 


THE  FIRST  ENCOUNTER  AT  STKYNHAM.  295 

idol.  He  conceived  it  in  the  mock-mediaaval  style  of  our 
caricaturists  :  —  Slirapnel  stretched  at  his  length,  half  a 
league,  in  slashed  yellows  and  blacks,  with  his  bauble  beside 
him,  and  prodigious  pointed  toes  ;  ^evil  in  parti-coloured 
tights,  on  one  leg,  raising  his  fists  in  imprecation  to  a  nose 
in  the  firmament. 

Gentlemen  of  an  unpractised  imaginative  capacity  cannot 
vision  for  themselves  exactly  what  they  would,  being  unable 
to  exercise  authority  over  the  proportions  and  the  hues  of 
the  objects  they  conceive,  which  are  very  much  at  the  mercy 
of  their  sportive  caprices  ;  and  the  state  of  mind  of  Mr. 
Ivomfrey  is  not  to  be  judged  by  his  ridiculous  view  of  the 
l)air.  In  the  abstract  he  could  be  sorry  for  Shrapnel.  As 
he  knew  himself  magnanimous,  he  pi'omised  himself  to  be 
forbearing  with  iS^evil. 

Moreover,  the  month  of  September  was  drawing  nigh  ;  he 
had  plenty  to  think  of.  The  entire  land  (signifying  all  but 
all  of  those  who  occupy  the  situation  of  thinkers  in  it)  may 
be  said  to  have  been  exhaling  the  same  thought  in  connec- 
tion with  September,  ^^ur  England  holds  possession  of  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  globe,  and  it  keeps  the  world  in 
awe  to  see  her  bestowing  so  considerable  a  portion  of  her 
intelligence  upon  her  recreations.  To  prosecute  them  witli ' 
her  whole  heart  is  an  ingenious  exhibition  of  her  power. 
Mr.  Romfrey  was  of  those  who  said  to  his  countrymen,  "  Go 
yachting  ;  go  cricketing ;  go  boat-racing ;  go  shooting  ;  go 
horse-racing,  nine  months  of  the  year,  while  the  other 
Eui'opeans  go  marching  and  drilling."  Those  occupations 
he  considered  good  for  us  ;  and  our  much  talking,  writing, 
and  thinking  aljout  them  characteristic,  and  therefore  good. 
And  he  w^as  not  one  of  those  who  do  penance  for  that  sweat- 
ing indolence  in  the  fits  of  desperate  panic.  Beauchamp's 
argument  that  the  rich  idler  begets  the  idling  vagabond, 
the  rich  wagerei"  the  brutal  swindler,  the  general  thirst  for 
a  mad  round  of  recreation  a  generally-increasing  disposition 
to  avoid  serious  work,  and  the  unbraced  moial  tone  of  the 
country  an  indifference  to  national  i-esponsibility  (an  argu- 
ment doubtless  extracted  from  Shi-apnel,  talk  tall  as  the 
very  demagogue  when  he  stood  upright),  Mr.  RomL'rey 
laughed  at  scornfully,  afiirming  that  our  manufactures 
could  take  care  of  themselves.  As  for  invasion,  we  are 
circled  by  the  sea.     Providence  has  done  that  for  us,  and 


296 

may  be  relied  on  to  do  more  in  an  emergency. — The  cMldren 
of  wealth  and  the  children  of  the  sun  alike  believe  that 
Providence  is  for  them,  and  it  would  seem  that  the  former 
can  do  without  it  less  than  the  latter,  though  the  former 
are  less  inclined  to  give  it  personification. 

This  year,  however,  the  array  of  armaments  on  the  Con- 
tinent made  Mr.  Romfrey  anxious  about  our  navy.  Almost 
his  first  topic  in  welcoming  Colonel  Halkett  and  Cecilia  to 
Steynham  was  the  rottenness  of  navy  administration  ;  for  if 
Providence  is  to  do  anything  for  us  it  must  have  a  sea- 
worthy fleet  for  the  operation.  How  loudly  would  his 
contemptuous  laughter  have  repudiated  the  charge  that  he 
trusted  to  supernatural  agency  for  assistance  in  case  of 
need!  But  so  it  was  :  and  he  owned  to  believing  in  Jj]nglish 
luck.  Partly  of  course  he  meant  that  steady  fire  of  combat 
which  his  countrymen  have  got  heated  to  of  old  till  fortune 
blessed  them. 

"  Nevil  is  not  here  ?"  the  colonel  asked. 

"  No,  I  suspect  he's  gruelling  and  plastering  a  doctor  of 
his  acquaintance,"  Mr.  Romfrey  said,  with  his  nasal  laugh 
composed  of  scorn  and  resignation. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I've  heard,"  said  Colonel  Halkett  hastily. 

He  would  have  liked  to  be  informed  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's 
particular  offence  :  he  mentioned  the  execrable  letter. 

Mr.  Romfrey  complacently  interjected  :  "  Drug- vomit  I" 
and  after  an  interval  :  "  Gallows  !" 

"  That  man  has  done  Nevil  Beauchamp  a  world  of  mis- 
chief, Romfrey." 

"  We'll  hope  for  a  cure,  colonel." 

"  Did  the  man  come  across  you  ?" 

"  He  did." 

Mr.  Romfrey  was  mute  on  the  subject.  Colonel  Halkett 
abstained  from  pushing  his  inquiries. 

Cecilia  could  only  tell  her  father  when  they  were  alone  in 
the  drawing-room  a  few  minutes  before  dinner  that  ]\lrs. 
Culling  was  entirely  ignorant  of  any  cause  to  which  Nevil's 
absence  might  be  attributed. 

"  Mr.  Romfrey  had  good  cause,"  the  colonel  said,  emjDhatic- 

He  repeated  it  next  day,  without  being  a  bit  wiser  of  the 
cause. 

Cecilia's  happiness  or  hope  Avas  too  sensitive  to  allow  of  a 


THE  FIRST  ENCOUNTER  AT  STEYNHAM.  297 

beloved  father's  deceiving  her  in  his  opposition  to  it.  She 
Faw  clearly  now  that  he  had  fastened  on  this  miserable 
incident,  expecting  an  imbroglio  that  would  divide  Nevil 
and  his  uncle,  and  be  an  excuse  for  dividing  her  and  ISTevil. 
O  for  the  passionate  will  to  make  head  against  what  ap- 
peared as  a  fate  in  this  matter  !      She  had  it  not. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wardour-Devereux,  Sir  John  and  Lady 
Baskelett,  and  the  Countess  of  Welshpool,  another  sister  of 
Mr.  Romfrey's,  arrived  at  Stevnham  for  a  day  and  a  night. 
Lady  Ba^kelefefc  and  Lady  Welshpool  came  to  see  their 
brother,  not  to  countenance  his  household ;  and  Mr.  Wardour- 
Devereux  could  not  stay  longer  than  a  certain  number  of 
hours  under  a  roof  where  tobacco  was  in  evil  odour.  From 
her  friend  Louise,  his  wife,  Cecilia  learnt  that  Mr.  Lydiard 
had  been  summoned  to  Dr.  Shrapnel's  bedside,  as  Mrs. 
Devereux  knew  by  a  letter  she  had  received  from  Mr. 
Lydiard,  who  was  no  political  devotee  of  that  man,  she 
assured  Cecilia,  but  had  an  extraordinary  admiration  for 
the  Miss  Denham  living  with  him.  This  was  kindly 
intended  to  imply  that  Beauchamp  was  released  from  his 
attendance  on  Dr.  Shrapnel,  and  also  that  it  was  not  he 
whom  the  Miss  Denham  attracted. 

"  She  is  in  Switzerland,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  She  is  better  there,"  said  Mrs.  Devereux. 

Mr.  Stukely  Culbrett  succeeded  to  these  visitors.  He 
heard  of  the  case  of  Dr.  Shrapnel  from  Colonel  Halkett, 
and  of  Beauchamp's  missing  of  his  chance  with  the  heiress 
from  Mr.  Romfi-ey. 

Rosamund  Culling  was  in  great  perplexity  about  Bean- 
champ's  prolonged  absence  ;  for  he  had  engaged  to  come,  he 
had  wi'itten  to  her  to  say  he  would  be  sure  to  come;  and  she 
feared  he  was  ill.  She  would  have  persuaded  Mr.  Culbrett 
to  go  down  to  Bevisham  to  see  him  :  she  declared  that  she 
could  even  persuade  herself  to  call  on  Dr.  Shrapnel  a  second 
time,  in  spite  of  her  horror  of  the  man.  Her  anger  at  the 
thought  of  his  keeping  ^evil  away  from  good  fortune  and 
happiness  caused  her  to  speak  in  resentment  and  loathing  of 
the  man. 

"  He  behaved  badly  when  you  saw  him,  did  he  ?"  said 
Stukely. 

"  Badly,  is  no  word.  He  is  detestable,'*  Rosamund 
replied. 


298  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER, 

"  You.  tliink  he  onglit  to  be  wliipped  ?" 

Slie  feigned  an  extremity  of  vindictiveness,  and  twisted 
her  brows  in  comic  apologj  for  the  unferainine  sentiment,  as 
she  said  :  "I  really  do." 

The  feminine  gentleness  of  her  character  was  known  to 
Stnkely,  so  she  could  afford  to  exaggerate  the  expression  of 
her  anger,  and  she  did  not  modify  it,  forgetful  that  a  woman 
is  the  re23i'esentative  of  the  sex  with  cynical  men,  and  escapes 
from  contempt  at  the  cost  of  her  sisterhood. 

Looking  out  of  an  upper  window  in  the  afternoon  she 
beheld  Nevil  Beauchamp  in  a  group  with  his  uncle  Everard, 
tlie  colonel  and  Cecilia,  and  Mr.  Culbrett.  Xevil  was  on  his 
feet ;  the  others  were  seated  under  the  great  tulip-tree  on  the 
lawn. 

A  little  observation  of  them  warned  her  that  something 
Avas  wrong.  There  was  a  vacant  chair  ;  Nevil  took  it  in  his 
h'lnd  at  times,  stamped  it  to  the  ground,  walked  away  and 
sharply  back  fronting  his  uncle,  speaking  vehemently,  she 
perceived,  and  vainly,  as  she  judged  by  the  cast  of  his 
uncle's  figure.  Mr.  Romfrey's  head  was  bent,  and  wagged 
slightly,  as  he  screwed  his  brows  up  and  shot  his  eyes 
queerly  at  the  agitated  young  man.  Colonel  Ilalkett's  arms 
crossed  his  chest.  Cecilia's  eyelids  drooped  their  lashes. 
Mr.  Culbrett  was  bahmcing  on  the  hind-legs  of  his  chair. 
No  one  appeared  to  be  speaking  but  Xevil. 

It  became  evident  that  Nevil  was  putting  a  sei-ics  of 
questions  to  his  uncle.  ^Mechanical  nods  were  given  him  in 
reply. 

Presently  Mr.  Romfrcy  rose,  thundei-ing  out  a  word  or 
two,  without  a  gesture. 

Colonel  Halkett  rose. 

Nevil  flung  his  hand  out  straight  to  the  house. 

Mr.  Romfrey  seemed  to  consent ;  the  colonel  shook  his 
head  :  Xevil  insisted. 

A  footman  carrying  a  tea-tray  to  Miss  Halkett  received 
some  commission  and  swiftly  disappeared,  making  Rosa- 
mund wonder  whether  sugar,  milk  or  cream  had  been 
omitted. 

She  met  him  on  the  first  landing,  and  heard  that  Mr. 
Romfrey  request^  her  to  step  out  on  the  lawn. 

Expecting  to  hear  of  a  piece  of  misconduct  on  the  part  of 
the  household  servants,  she  hurried  forth,  and  found  that 


THE  FIKST  ENCOUNTER  AT  STEYNHAM.  299 

she  had  to  traverse  the  whole  space  of  the  lawn  np  to  the 
tulip-tree.  Colonel  Halkett  and  Mr.  Romfrej  had  resumed 
their  seats.     The  colonel  stood  up  and  bowed  to  her. 

Mr.  Komfrej  said :  "  One  question  to  you,  ma'am,  and  you 
shall  not  be  detained.  Did  not  that  man  Shrapnel  grossly 
insult  you  on  the  day  you  called  on  him  to  see  Captain  Beau- 
champ  about  a  couple  of  months  before  the  Election  ?" 

"  Look  at  me  when  you  speak,  ma'am,"  said  Beauchamp. 

Rosamund  looked  at  him. 

The  whiteness  of  his  face  paralyzed  her  tongue.  A 
dreadful  levelling  of  his  eyes  penetrated  and  chilled  her. 
Instead  of  thinking  of  her  answer  she  thouo-ht  of  what 
could  possibly  have  happened. 

"  Did  he  insult  you  at  all,  ma'am  ?"  said  Beauchamp. 

Mr.  Romfrey  reminded  him  that  he  was  not  a  crosS" 
examining  criminal  barrister. 

They  waited  for  her  to  speak. 

She  hesitated,  coloured,  betrayed  confusion ;  hor  senses 
telling  her  of  a  catastrophe,  her  conscience  accusing  her  as 
the  origin  of  it. 

"  Did  Dr.  Shrapnel,  to  your  belief,  intentionally  hurt  your 
feelings  or  your  dignity?"  said  Beauchamp,  and  made  the 
answer  easier : 

"  N'ot  intentionally,  surely:  not  ....  I  certainly  do  not 
accuse  him." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  you  feel  that  he  wounded  you  in  the 
smallest  degree  ?  And  if  so,  how  ?  I  ask  you  this,  because 
he  is  anxious,  if  he  lives,  to  apologize  to  you  for  any  olfence 
that  he  may  have  been  guilty  of :  he  was  ignorant  of  it.  I 
have  his  word  for  that,  and  his  commands  to  me  to  bear  it 
to  you.  I  may  tell  you  I  have  never  known  him  injure  the 
most  feeble  thing — anything  alive,  or  wish  to." 

Beauchamp's  voice  choked.  Rosamund  saw  tears  leap  out 
of  the  stern  face  of  her  dearest  now  in  wrath  with  her. 

"  Is  he  ill  ?"  she  faltered. 

"  He  is.  You  own  to  a  strong  dislike  of  him,  do  you 
not  ?" 

"  But  not  to  desire  any  harm  to  him." 

"  Not  a  whipping,"  Mr.  Culbrett  murmured. 

Everard  Romfrey  overheard  it. 

He  had  allowed  Mrs.  Culling  to  be  sent  for,  that  she 
might   with    a  bare    affirmative    silence   N'evil,   when   hia 


300  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

conduct  was  becoming  intolerable  before  the  guests  of  tbe 
house. 

"  That  will  do,  ma'am,"  he  dismissed  her. 

Beauchamp  would  not  let  her  depart. 

"  I  must  have  your  distinct  reply,  and  in  Mr.  Romfre3'''s 
presence : — say,  that  if  you  accused  him  you  were  mistaken, 
or  that  they  were  mistaken  who  supposed  you  had  accused 
him.     I  must  have  the  answer  before  you  go." 

"  Sir,  will  you  learn  manners  !"  Mr.  Romfrey  said  to  him, 
with  a  rattle  of  the  throat. 

Beauchamp  turned  his  face  from  her. 

Colonel  Halkett  oifered  her  his  arm  to  lead  her  away. 

"  AVhat  is  it  ?  Oh,  what  is  it  ?"  she  whispered,  scarcely 
able  to  walk,  but  declining  the  colonel's  arm. 

"  You  ought  not  to  have  been  dragged  out  here,"  said  he. 
"  Anyone  might  have  known  there  would  be  no  convincing 
of  Captain  Beauchamp.  That  old  rascal  in  Bevisham  has 
been  having  a  beating ;  that's  all.  And  a  very  beautiful  day 
it  is  ! — a  little  too  hot,  though.  Before  we  leave,  you  must 
give  me  a  lesson  or  two  in  gardening." 

"  Dr.  Shrapnel — Mr.  Romfrey  !"  said  Rosamund  half 
audibly  under  the  oppression  of  the  more  she  saw  than  what 
she  said. 

The  colonel  talked  of  her  renown  in  landscape-gardening. 
He  added  casually :  "  They  met  the  other  day." 

"  By  accident  ?" 

"  By  chance,  I  suppose.  Shrapnel  defends  one  of  your 
Steynham  poaching  vei'min." 

"  Mr.  Romfrey  struck  him  ? — for  that  ?  Oh,  never  !" 
Rosamund  exclaimed. 

"  I  suppose  he  had  a  long  account  to  settle." 

She  fetched  her  breath  painfully,  "  I  shall  never  be 
forgiven." 

"  And  I  say  that  a  gentleman  has  no  business  with  idols," 
the  colonel  fumed  as  he  spoke.  "  Those  letters  of  Shrapnel 
to  Nevil  Beauchamp  are  a  scandal  on  the  name  of  English. 
man." 

"  You  have  read  that  shocking  one.  Colonel  Halkett  ?** 

"  Captain  Baskelett  read  it  out  to  us." 

"He?  Oh!  then  .  .  ."  She  stopped  :— Then  the  author 
of  this  mischief  is  clear  to  me  !  her  divining  hatred  of  Cecil 
would  have  said,  but  her  humble  position  did  not  warrant 


THE  PIEST  ENCOUNTER  AT  STEYNHAM.  301 

siTcli  speech.  A  consideration  of  the  lowliness  necessitating 
this  restraint  at  a  moment  when  loudly  to  denounce  another's 
infamy  with  triumphant  insight  would  have  solaced  and 
supported  her,  kept  Rosamund  dumb. 

She  could  not  bear  to  think  of  her  part  in  the  mischief. 
She  M-as  not  bound  to  think  of  it,  knowing  actually  nothing 
of  the  occurrence. 

Still  she  felt  that  she  was  on  her  trial.  She  detected 
herself  running  in  and  out  of  her  natui'e  to  fortify  it  against 
accusations  rather  than  cleanse  it  for  inspection.  It  was 
narrowing  in  her  own  sight.  The  prospect  of  her  having 
to  submit  to  a  further  interrogatory,  shut  it  up  entrenched 
in  the  declaration  that  Dr.  Shrapnel  had  so  far  outraged  her 
sentiments  as  to  bo  said  to  have  offended  her:  not  insulted, 
perhaps,  but  certainly  offended. 

And  this  was  a  generous  distinction.  It  was  generous  ; 
and,  having  recognised  the  generosity,  she  was  unable  to  go 
beyond  it. 

She  was  presently  making  the  distinction  to  Miss  Halkett. 
The  colonel  had  left  her  at  the  door  of  the  house :  Miss 
Halkett  sought  admission  to  her  private  room  on  an  errand 
of  condolence,  for  she  had  sympathized  with  her  very  much 
in  the  semi-indignity  Xevil  had  forced  her  to  undergo :  and 
very  little  indeed  had  she  been  able  to  sympathize  with 
N'evil,  who  had  been  guilty  of  the  serious  fault  of  allowing 
himself  to  appear  moved  by  his  own  commonplace  utter- 
ances ;  or,  in  other  words,  the  theme  being  hostile  to  his 
audience,  he  had  betrayed  emotion  over  it  without  first 
evoking  the  spirit  of  pathos. 

"As  for  me,"  Rosamund  replied,  to  some  comforting 
remarks  of  Miss  Halkett's,  "I  do  not  understand  why  I 
should  be  mixed  up  in  Dr.  Shrapnel's  misfortunes  :  I  really 
am  quite  unable  to  recollect  his  words  to  me  or  his  behaviour: 
I  have  only  a  positive  impression  that  I  left  his  house,  where 
I  had  gone  to  see  Captain  Beauchamp,  in  utter  disgust,  so 
repelled  hj  his  language  that  I  could  hardly  trust  myself 
to  speak  of  the  man  to  Mr.  Eomfrey  when  he  questioned 
me.  I  did  not  volunteer  it.  I  am  ready  to  say  that  I  be- 
lieve Dr.  Shrapnel  did  not  intend  to  be  insulting.  I  cannot 
say  that  he  was  not  offensive.  You  know,  Miss  Halkett,  I 
would  willingly,  gladly  have  saved  him  from  anything  like 
punishment." 


302  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  You  are  too  gentle  to  have  thouglit  of  it,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  But  I  shall  never  be  forgiven  bj  Captain  Beauchamp. 
I  see  in  Ms  eyes  that  he  accuses  me  and  despises  me," 

"  He  will  not  be  so  unjust,  Mrs.  Culling." 

Rosamund  begged  that  she  might  hear  what  Wevil  had 
first  said  on  his  arrival. 

Cecilia  related  that  they  had  seen  him  Malking  swiftly 
across  the  park,  and  that  Mr.  Romfrey  had  hailed  him,  and 
held  his  hand  out ;  and  that  Captain  Beauchamp  had  over- 
looked it,  saying  he  feared  Mr.  Romfrey's  work  was  complete. 
He  had  taken  her  father's  hand  and  hers  :  and  his  touch  was 
like  ice. 

"  His  worship  of  that  Dr.  Shrapnel  is  extraordinary," 
quoth  Rosamund.  "  And  how  did  Mr.  Romfrey  behave  to 
him  ?" 

"  My  father  thinks,  very  forbearingly," 

Rosamund  sighed  and  made  a  semblance  of  wringing  her 
hands.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  I  anticipated  ever  since  I 
heard  of  the  man  ...  or  at  least  ever  since  I  saw  him  and 
heard  him,  he  would  be  the  evil  genius  of  us  all : — if  I  dare 
include  myself.  But  I  am  not  permitted  to  escape  !  And, 
Miss  Halkett,  can  you  tell  me  how  it  was  that  my  name^ 
that  I  became  involved?  I  cannot  imagine  the  circum- 
stances which  would  bring  me  forward  in  this  nnhappy 
affair." 

Cecilia  replied :  "  The  occasion  was  that  Ca])tain  Beau- 
champ so  scornfully  contrasted  the  sort  of  injury  done  by  Dr. 
Shrajjnel's  defence  of  a  poacher  on  his  uncle's  estate,  with 
the  severe  chastisement  inflicted  by  Mr.  Romfrey  in  revenge 
for  it.     He  would  not  leave  the  subject." 

"  I  see  him — see  his  eyes  !"  cried  Rosamund,  her  bosom 
heaving  and  sinking  deep,  as  her  conscience  quavered  within 
her.     "  At  last  Mr.  Romfrey  mentioned  me  ?" 

"  He  stood  up  and  said  you  had  been  pei'sonally  insulted 
by  Dr.  Shrapnel." 

Rosamund  meditated  in  a  distressing  doubt  of  her  con- 
scientious truthfulness. 

"  Captain  Beauchamp  will  be  coming  to  me  ;  and  how  can 
I  answer  him  ?  Heaven  knows  I  would  have  shielded  the 
poor  man,  if  possible — poor  wretch  !  Wicked  though  he  is, 
one  has  only  to  hear  of  him  suffering  !  But  what  can  I 
answer  ?       I  do  recollect  now  that  Mr.  Romfrey  compelled 


THE  FACE  OF  RENEE.  803 

me  from  question  to  question  to  confess  that  tlie  man  had 
vexed  me.  Insulted,  I  never  said.  At  the  worst,  I  said 
vexed.  I  would  not  have  said  insulted,  or  even  offended, 
because  Mr.  Romfrey  .  .  .  ah  !  we  know  him.  What  I  did 
say,  I  forget.  I  have  no  guide  to  what  I  said  but  my  present 
feelings,  and  they  are  pity  for  the  unfortunate  man  much 
more  than  dislike. — Well.  I  must  go  through  the  scene  with 
Xevil!"  Rosamund  concluded  her  outcry  of  ostensible 
exculpation. 

She  asked  in  a  cooler  moment  how  it  was  that  Captain 
Beauchamp  had  so  far  forgotte  n  himself  as  to  burst  out  on 
his  uncle  before  the  guests  of  the  house.  It  appeared  that 
he  had  wished  his  uncle  to  withdraw  with  him,  and  Mr. 
Romfrey  had  bidden  him  postpone  private  communications. 
Rosamund  gathered  from  one  or  two  words  of  Cecilia's  that 
Mr.  Romfrey,  until  finally  stung  by  Nevil,  had  indulged  in 
his  best-humoured  banter. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE  FACE  OF  RENEE. 


Shortly  before  the  ringing  of  the  dinner-bell  Rosamund 
knocked  at  Beauchamp 's  dressing-room  door,  the  bearer  of  a 
telegram  from  Bevisham.  He  read  it  in  one  swift  run  of 
the  eyes,  and  said  :  "  Come  in,  ma'am,  I  have  something  for 
you.     Madame  de  Rouaillout  sends  you  this." 

Rosamund  saw  her  name  written  in  a  French  hand  on  the 
back  of  the  card. 

"You  stay  with  us,  Nevil  ?" 

"  To-night  and  to-morrow,  perhaps.  The  danger  seems  to 
be  over." 

"  Has  Dr.  Shrapnel  been  in  danger  ?" 

"  He  has.     If  it's  quite  over  now  !" 

"I  declare  to  you,  Xevil  .  .   .  ." 

"  Listen  to  me,  ma'am ;  I'm  in  the  dark  about  this  mur- 
derous business  : — an  old  man,  defenceless,  harmless  as  a 
child ! — but  I  know  this,  that  you  are  somewhere  in  it." 

"  Nevil,  do  you  not  guess  at  some  one  else  ?" 


804  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  He  !  yes,  he  !  Bat  Cecil  Baskelett  led  no  blind  man  to 
Dr.  Shrapnel's  gate." 

"  I^^evil,  as  I  live,  I  knew  nothing  of  it !" 

"ISTo,  but  you  set  fire  to  the  train.  You  hated  the  old 
man,  and  you  taught  Mr.  Romfrey  to  think  that  you  had 
been  insulted.  I  see  it  all.  Now  you  must  have  the 
courage  to  tell  him  of  your  error.  There's  no  other  course 
for  you.  I  mean  to  take  Mr.  Romfrey  to  Dr.  Shrapnel,  to 
save  the  honour  of  our  family,  as  far  as  it  can  be  saved." 

"What  ?  Nevil!"  exclaimed  Rosamund,  gaping. 

"  It  seems  little  enough,  ma'am.  But  he  must  go.  I  will 
have  the  apology  spoken,  and  man  to  man." 

"  But  you  would  never  tell  your  uncle  that  ?" 

He  laughed  in  his  uncle's  manner, 

"  But,  ISTevil,  my  dearest,  forgive  me,  I  think  of  you — why 
are  the  Halketts  here  ?  It  is  not  entirely  with  Colonel 
Halkett's  consent.  It  is  your  uncle's  influence  with  him 
that  gives  you  your  chance.  Do  you  not  care  to  avail  your- 
self of  it  ?  Ever  since  he  heard  Dr.  Shrapnel's  letter  to 
you,  Colonel  Halkett  has,  I  am  sure,  been  tempted  to  con- 
found you  with  him  in  his  mind  : — ah  !  Nevil,  but  recollect 
that  it  is  only  Mr.  Romfrey  who  can  help  to  give  you  your 
Cecilia.  There  is  no  dispensing  with  him.  Postpone  your 
attempt  to  humiliate — I  mean,  that  is.  Oh  !  Nevil,  whatever 
you  intend  to  do  to  overcome  your  uncle  ;  trust  to  time,  be 
friends  with  him  ;  be  a  little  worldly !  for  her  sake !  to 
ensure  her  happiness  !" 

Beauchamp  obtained  the  information  that  his  cousin  Cecil 
had  read  out  the  letter  of  Dr.  Shrapnel  at  Mount  Laurels. 

The  bell  rang. 

"  Do  you  imagine  I  should  sit  at  my  uncle's  table  if  I  did 
not  intend  to  force  him  to  repair  the  wrong  he  has  done  to 
himself  and  to  us  ?"  he  said. 

"  Oh  !  Nevil,  do  you  not  see  Captain  Baskelett  at  work 
here  ?" 

"  What  amends  can  Cecil  Baskelett  make  ?  My  uncle  is 
a  man  of  honour:  it  is  in  his  power.  There,  I  leave  you  to 
speak  to  him ;  you  will  do  it  to-night,  after  we  break  up  in 
the  drawing-room." 

Rosamund  groaned  :  "  An  apology  to  Dr.  Shrapnel  from 
Mr.  Romfrey  !     It  is  an  impossibility,  Nevil !  utter  !" 

"  So  j'ou  say  to  sit  idle :  but  do  as  I  tell  you." 


THE  PACE  OF  EENEE.  305 

He  went  downstairs. 

He  had  barely  reproached  her.  She  wondered  at  that ; 
and  then  remembered  his  alien  sad  half- smile  in  quitting 
the  room. 

Rosamund  would  not  present  herself  at  her  lord's  dinner- 
table  when  there  were  any  guests  at  Steynham.  She  pre- 
pared to  receive  Miss  Halkett  in  the  drawing-room,  as  the 
guests  of  the  house  this  evening  chanced  to  be  her  friends. 

Madame  de  Rouaillout's  present  to  her  was  a  photograph 
of  M.  de  Croisnel,  his  daughter  and  son  in  a  group.  Rosa- 
mund could  not  bear  to  look  at  the  face  of  Renee,  and  she 
put  it  out  of  sight.  But  she  had  looked.  She  was  reduced 
to  look  again. 

Roland  stood  beside  his  father's  chair ;  Renee  sat  at  his 
feet,  clasping  his  right  hand.  M.  de  Croisnel's  fallen  eyelids 
and  unshorn  white  chin  told  the  story  of  the  family  reunion. 
He  was  dying  :  his  two  children  were  nursing  him  to  the 
end. 

Decidedly  Cecilia  was  a  more  beautiful  woman  than 
Renee:  but  on  which  does  the  eye  linger  longest — which 
draws  the  heart  ?  a  radiant  landscape,  where  the  tall  ripe 
wheat  flashes  between  shadow  and  shine  in  the  stately  march 
of  Summer,  or  the  peep  into  dewy  woodland  on  to  dark 
water  ? 

Dark-eyed  Renee  was  not  beauty  but  attraction;  she 
touched  the  double  chords  within  us  which  are  we  know  not 
whether  harmony  or  discord,  but  a  divine  discord  if  an  un- 
certified harmony,  memorable  beyond  plain  sweetness  or 
majesty.  There  are  touches  of  bliss  in  anguish  that  super- 
humanize  bliss,  touches  of  mystery  in  simplicity,  of  the 
eternal  in  the  variable.  These  two  chords  of  poignant  anti- 
phony  she  struck  throughout  the  range  of  the  hearts  of 
men,  and  strangely  intervolved  them  in  vibrating  unison. 
Only  to  look  at  her  face,  without  hearing  her  voice,  without 
the  charm  of  her  speech,  was  to  feel  it.  On  Cecilia's  enter- 
ing the  drawing-room  sola,  while  the  gentlemen  drank  claret, 
Rosamund  handed  her  the  card  of  the  photographic  artist  of 
Tours,  mentioning  no  names. 

"  I  should  say  the  portrait  is  correct.  A  want  of  spirit- 
uality," Rosamund  said  critically,  using  one  of  the  insular 
commonplaces,  after  that  manner  of  fasiening  upon  what 
there  is  not  in  a  piece  of  Art  or  nature.  '^ 

X 


306  BEAUCHAMP's  CAEEER. 

Cecilia's  avidity  to  see  and  study  tlie  face  preserved  her 
at  a  higher  mark. 

She  knew  the  person  instantly;  had  no  occasion  to  ask 
who  this  was.     She  sat  over  the  portrait  blushing  bnrningly  :  • 
*'  And  that  is  a  brother?"  she  said. 

"  That  is  her  brother  Roland,  and  very  like  her,  except  in 
complexion,"  said  Rosamund. 

Cecilia  murmured  of  a  general  resemblance  in  the  features. 
Renee  enchained  her.  Though  but  a  sunshadow  the  vivid- 
ness of  this  French  face  came  out  surprisingly  ;  air  was  in 
the  nostrils  and  speech  flew  from  the  tremulous  mouth.  The 
eyes  ?  were  they  quivering  with  internal  light,  or  were  they 
set  to  seem  so  in  the  sensitive  strange  curves  of  the  eyelids 
whose  awakened  lashes  appeared  to  tremble  on  some  border- 
land between  lustreful  significance  and  the  mists  ?  She 
caught  at  the  nerves  like  certain  aoristic  combinations  in 
music,  like  tones  of  a  stringed  instrument  swept  by  the 
wind,  enticing,  unseizable.  Yet  she  sat  there  at  her  father's 
feet  gazing  out  into  the  world  indifferent  to  spectators,  in- 
different even  to  the  common  sentiment  of  gracefulness. 
Her  left  hand  clasped  his  right,  and  she  supported  herself 
on  the  flooF  with  the  other  hand  leaning  away  from  him,  to 
the  destruction  of  conventional  symmetry  in  the  picture. 
ISTone  but  a  woman  of  consummate  breeding  dared  have  done 
as  she  did.  It  was  not  Southern  suppleness  that  saved  her 
from  the  charge  of  harsh  audacity,  but  something  of  the 
kind  of  genius  in  her  mood  which  has  hurried  the  gi^eater 
poets  of  sound  and  speech  to  impose  their  natiu-alness  upon 
accepted  laws,  or  show  the  laws  to  have  been  our  meagre 
limitations. 

The  writer  in  this  country  will,  however,  be  made  safest, 
and  the  excellent  body  of  self-appointed  thongmen,  who  walk 
up  and  down  our  ranks  flapping  theii-  leathern  straps  to 
terrorize  us  from  experiments  in  imagei-y,  will  best  be 
satisfied,  by  the  statement  that  she  was  indescribable :  a 
term  that  exacts  no  labour  of  mind  from  him  or  from  them, 
for  it  flows  off  the  pen  as  readily  as  it  fills  a  vacuum. 

That  posture  of  Renee  displeased  Cecilia  and  fascinated 
her.  In  an  exhibition  of  paintings  she  would  have  passed 
by  it  in  pure  displeasure :  but  here  was  Xevil's  first  love, 
the  woman  who  loved  him ;  and  she  was  French.  After  a 
continued  study  of  her  Cecilia's  growing  jealousy  betrayed 


THE  FACE  OF  EENEE.  307 

itself  in  a  conscious  rivalry  of  race,  coming  to  the  admission 
that  jEnglish women  cannot  fling  tliemselves  about  on  the 
floor  without  agonizing  the  graces  :  possibly,  too,  they  cannot 
look  singularly  without  risks  in  the  direction  of  slyness  and 
brazen  archness ;  or  talk  animatedly  without  dipping  in 
slang.  Conventional  situations  preserve  them  and  inter- 
change dignity  with  them;  still  life  befits  them;  pre- 
eminently that  judicial  seat  from  which  in  briefest  speech 
they  deliver  their  judgements  upon  their  foreign  sisters. 
Jealousy  it  was  that  plucked  Cecilia  from  her  majestic  place 
and  caused  her  to  envy  in  Renee  things  she  would  otherwise 
have  disapproved. 

At  last  she  had  seen  the  French  lady's  likeness  !  The 
effect  of  it  was  a  horrid  trouble  in  Cecilia's  cool  blood, 
abasement,  a  sense  of  eclipse,  hardly  any  sense  of  deserving 
worthiness: — "  AYhat  am  I  but  an  heiress!"  i^evil  had 
once  called  her  beautiful ;  his  j^raise  had  given  her  beauty. 
But  what  is  beauty  when  it  is  outshone!  Ask  the  owners 
of  gems.     You  think  them  rich  ;  they  are  pining. 

Then,  too,  this  Renee,  who  looked  electrical  in  repose, 
^  might  really  love  JN'evil  with  a  love  that  sent  her  heart  out 
to  him  in  his  enterprises,  justifying  and  adoring  him, 
piercing  to  the  hero  in  his  very  thoughts.  Would  she  not 
see  that  his  championship  of  the  unfortunate  man  Dr. 
Shrapnel  was  heroic  ? 

Cecilia  surrendered  the  Cd,!*!  to  Rosamund,  and  it  was 
out  of  sight  when  Beauchamp  stepped  into  the  drawing- 
room.  His  cheeks  were  flushed ;  he  had  been  one  against 
three  for  the  better  part  of  an  hour. 

"Are  you  going  to  show  me  the  downs  to-morrow  morn- 
ing ?"  Cecilia  said  to  him  ;  and  he  replied,  "  You  will  have 
to  be  up  early." 

"  What's  that?"  asked  the  colonel,  at  Beaucliamp's  heels. 

He  was  volunteering  to  join  the  party  of  two  for  the  early 
morning's  ride  to  the  downs.  Mr.  Romfrey  pressed  his 
shoulder,  saying,  "  There's  no  third  horse  can  do  it  in  my 
stables." 

Colonel  Halkett  turned  to  him. 

"I  had  your  promise  to  come  over  the  kennels  with  me 
and  see  how  I  treat  a  cry  of  mad  dog,  which  is  ninety-nintf 
times  out  of  a  hundred  mad  fool  man,"  Mr.  Romfrey  added. 

x2 


308  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

By  that  the  colonel  knew  he  meant  to  stand  by  Nevil  still 
and  offer  him  his  chance  of  winning  Cecilia. 

Having  pledged  his  word  not  to  ititeifere,  Colonel  Halkett 
submitted,  and  muttered,  "Ah!  the  kennels."  Considering 
however  what  he  had  been  witnessing  of  ISTevil's  behaviour 
to  his  uncle,  the  colonel  was  amazed  at  Mr.  Romfrey's  m.ag- 
nanimity  in  not  cutting  him  off  and  disowning  him. 

"  Why  the  downs  ?"  he  said. 

"Why  the  deuce,  colonel  ?"  A  question  quite  as  reason- 
able, and  Mr.  Romfrey  laughed  under  his  breath.  To 
relieve  an  uncertainty  in  Cecilia's  face  that  might  soon  have 
become  confusion,  he  described  the  downs  fronting  the  pale- 
ness of  earliest  dawn,  and  then  their  arch  and  curve  and  dip 
against  the  pearly  grey  of  the  half -glow  ;  and  then,  among 
their  hollows,  lo,  the  illumination  of  the  East  all  around, 
and  up  and  away,  and  a  gallop  for  miles  along  the  turfy 
thymy  rolling  billows,  land  to  left,  sea  to  right,  below  you. 
"  It's  the  nearest  hit  to  wings  we  can  make,  Cecilia."  He 
surprised  her  with  her  Christian  name,  which  kindled  in  her 
the  secret  of  something  he  expected  from  that  ride  on  the 
downs. — Compare  you  the  Alps  with  them  ?  H  you  could 
jump  on  the  back  of  an  eagle,  you  might.  The  Alps  have 
height.  But  the  downs  have  swiftness.  Those  long  stretch- 
ing lines  of  the  downs  are  greyhounds  in  full  career.  To 
look  at  them  is  to  set  the  blood  racing  !  Speed  is  on  the 
downs,  glorious  motion,  odorous  air  of  sea  and  herb,  exquisite 
as  in  the  isles  of  Greece.  And  the  Continental  travelling 
ninnies  leave  England  for  health! — run  off  and  forth  from 
the  downs  to  the  steamboat,  the  railway,  the  steaming  hotel, 
the  tourist's  shivering  mountain-top,  in  search  of  sensations! 
There  on  the  downs  the  finest  and  liveliest  are  at  their 
bidding  ready  to  fly  through  them  like  hosts  of  angels. 

He  spoke  somewhat  in  that  strain,  either  to  relieve 
Cecilia  or  prepare  the  road  for  Nevil,  not  in  his  ordinary 
style;  on  the  contrary,  with  a  swing  of  enthusiasm  that 
seemed  to  spring  of  ancient  heartfelt  fervours.  And  indeed 
soon  afterward  he  was  telling  her  that  there  on  those  downs, 
in  full  view  of  Steynham,  he  and  his  wife  had  first  joined 
hands. 

Beauchamp  sat  silent.  Mr.  Romfrey  dispatched  orders  to 
the  stables,  and  Rosamund  to  the  kitchen.  Cecilia  was 
rather  dismayed  by  the  formal  preparations  for  the  ride. 


THE  RIDE  IN  THE  WEONG  DIRECTION.  309 

She  declined  tlie  early  cup  of  coffee.  Mr.  Romfrey  begged 
"her  to  take  it.  "  Who  knows  the  hour  when  you'll  be 
back  ?  "  he  said.     Beauchamp  said  nothing. 

The  room  grew  insufferable  to  Cecilia.  She  would  have 
liked  to  be  wafted  to  her  chamber  in  a  veil,  so  shamefully 
unveiled  did  she  seem  to  be.  But  the  French  lady  would 
have  been  happy  in  her  place !  Her  father  kissed  her  as 
fathers  do  when  they  hand  the  bride  into  the  travelling 
carriage.  His  "  Good  night,  my  darling  ! "  was  in  the  voice 
of  a  soldier  on  duty.  For  a  concluding  sign  that  her  dim 
apprehensions  pointed  correctly,  Mr.  Romfrey  kissed  her  on 
the  forehead.  She  could  not  understand  how  it  had  come  to 
pass  that  she  found  herself  suddenly  on  this  incline,  precipi- 
tated whither  she  would  fain  be  going,  only  less  hurriedly, 
less  openly,  and  with  her  secret  merely  peeping,  like  a  dove 
in  the  breast. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE  RIDE  IN  THE  WRONG  DIRECTION. 

That  pure  opaque  of  the  line  of  downs  ran  luminously 
edged  against  the  pearly  morning  sky,  with  its  dark  land- 
ward face  crepusculine  yet  clear  in  every  combe,  every  dot- 
ting copse  and  furze-bush,  every  wavy  fall,  and  the  rij^ple, 
crease,  and  rill-like  descent  of  the  turf.  Beauty  of  darkness 
was  there,  as  well  as  beauty  of  light  above. 

Beauchamp  and  Cecilia  rode  forth  before  the  sun  was  over 
the  line,  while  the  West  and  Xorth-west  sides  of  the  rolling 
downs  were  stamped  with  such  firmness  of  dusky  feature  as 
you  see  on  the  indentations  of  a  shield  of  tarnished  silver. 
The  mounting  of  the  sun  behind  threw  an  obscurer  gloom, 
and  gradually  a  black  mask  overcame  them,  until  the  rays 
shot  among  their  folds  and  windings,  and  shadows  rich  as 
the  black  pansy,  steady  as  on  a  dial-plate  rounded  with  the 
hour. 

Mr.  Everard  Romfrey  embraced  this  view  from  Steynham 
windows,  and  loved  it."  The  lengths  of  gigantic  '  greyhound 
backs '  coursing  along  the  South  were  his  vision  of  delight; 


310  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

no  ima:;-e  of  repose  for  him,  bat  of  the  life  in  swiftness.  He 
had  known  them  when  the  great  bird  of  the  downs  was  not 
a  mere  tradition,  and  though  he  owned  conscientiously  to 
never  having  beheld  the  bird,  a  certain  mysterj  of  holiness 
hung  about  the  region  where  the  bird  had  been  in  his  time. 
There,  too,  with  a  timely  word  he  had  gained  a  wealthy  and 
good  wife.     He  had  now  sent  Nevil  to  do  the  same. 

This  astute  gentleman  had  caught  at  the  idea  of  a  ride  of 
the  young  couple  to  the  downs  with  his  customary  alacrity 
of  perception  as  being  the  very  best  arrangement  for  hurry- 
ing them  to  the  point.  At  Steynham  Nevil  was  sure  to  be 
howling  all  day  over  his  tumbled  joss  Shrapnel.  Once 
away  in  the  heart  of  the  downs,  and  Cecilia  beside  him,  it 
was  a  matter  of  calculation  that  two  or  three  hours  of 
the  sharpening  air  would  screw  his  human  nature  to  the 
pitch.  In  fact,  unless  each  of  them  was  reluctant,  they 
could  hardly  return  unbetrothed.  Cecilia's  consent  was 
foreshadowed  by  her  submission  in  going :  Mr.  Romfrey  had 
noticed  her  fright  at  the  suggestive  formalities  he  cast  round 
the  expedition,  and  felt  sure  of  her.  Taking  Nevil  for  a 
man  who  could  smell  the  perfume  of  a  ripe  affirmative  on  the 
sweetest  of  li])s,  he  was  pretty  well  sure  of  him  likewise.  And 
then  a  truce  to  all  that  Radical  raging  and  hot-pokering  of 
the  country  !  and  lie  in  peace,  old  Shrapnel !  and  get  on  your 
legs  when  you  can,  and  oifend  no  more ;  especially  be  mind- 
ful not  to  let  fly  one  word  against  a  woman  !  With  Cecilia 
for  wife,  and  a  year  of  marriage  devoted  to  a  son  and  heir, 
Nevil  might  be  expected  to  resume  his  duties  as  a  naval 
officer,  and  win  an  honourable  name  for  the  inheritance  of 
the  young  one  he  kissed. 

There  was  benevolence  in  these  previsions  of  Mr.  Romfrey, 
proving  how  good  it  is  for  us  to  bow  to  despotic  authority, 
if  only  we  will  bring  ourselves  unquestioningly  to  accept 
blie  previous  deeds  of  the  directing  hand. 

Colonel  Halkett  gave  up  his  daughter  for  lost  when  she 
did  not  appear  at  the  breakfast-table  :  for  yet  more  decidedly 
lost  when  the  luncheon  saw  her  empty  place  :  and  as  time 
drew  on  toward  the  dinner-hour,  he  began  to  think  her  lost 
beyond  hope,  embarked  for  good  and  all  with  the  madbrain. 
Some  little  hope  of  a  dissension  between  the  paii",  arising 
from  the  natural  antagonism  of  her  strong  sense  to  Nevil's 
extravagance,  had  buoyed  him  until  it  was  evident  that  they 


THE  RIDE  IN  THE  WRO-NG  DIRECTION.  311 

must  have  alighted  at  an  inn  to  eat,  which  signified  that 
they  had  overleaped  the  world  and  its  hurdles,  and  were  as 
dreamy  a  leash  of  lovers  as  ever  made  a  dreamland  of  hard 
earth.  The  downs  looked  like  dreamland  through  the  long 
afternoon.  They  shone  as  in  a  veil  of  silk — softly  fair,  softly 
dark.  ISTo  spot  of  harshness  was  on  them  save  Avhere  a 
quarry  South-westward  gaped  at  the  evening  sun. 

Red  light  struck  into  that  round  chalk  maw,  and  the  green 
slopes  and  channels  and  half-circle  hollows  were  brought  a 
mile-strido  nio'her  Steynham  by  the  level  beams. 

The  pool'  o^.d  colonel  fell  to  a  more  frequent  repetition  of 
the  "  Well !"  with  which  he  had  been  unconsciously  expres- 
sing his  perplexed  mind  in  the  kennels  and  through  the 
covers  during  the  day.  Isone  of  the  gentlemen  went  to 
dress.  Mr.  Culbrett  was  indoors  conversing  with  Rosamund 
Culling. 

"  What's  come  to  them  ?"  the  colonel  asked  of  Mr.  Rom- 
frey,  who  said  shrugging  :  "  Something  wrong  with  one  of 
the  horses."  It  had  hajipened  to  him  on  one  occasion  to  set 
foot  in  the  hole  of  a  baked  hedgehog  that  had  furnished  a 
repast,  not  without  succulence,  to  some  shepherd  of  the 
downs.  Such  a  case  might  have  recurred  ;  it  was  more 
likely  to  cause  an  upset  at  a  walk  than  at  a  gallop  :  or  per- 
haps a  shoe  had  been  cast;  and  young  people  break  no  bones 
at  a  walking  fall ;  ten  to  one  if  they  do  at  their  top  speed. 
Horses  manage  to  kill  their  seniors  for  them  :  the  young  are 
exempt  from  accident. 

Colonel  Halkett  nodded  and  sighed  :  "  I  daresay  they're 
safe.  It's  that  man  Shrapnel's  letter — that  letter,  Romfrey ! 
A  private  letter,  I  know  ;  but  I've  not  heard  Nevil  disown 
the  opinions  expressed  in  it.  I  submit.  It's  no  use  resisting. 
I  treat  my  daughter  as  a  woman  capable  of  judging  for  her- 
self. I  repeat,  I  submit.  I  haven't  a  word  against  Nevil 
except  on  the  score  of  his  politics.  I  like  him.  All  I 
have  to  say  is,  I  don't  approve  of  a  republican  and  a  sceptic 
for  my  son-in-law.  I  yield  to  you,  and  my  daughter,  if 
she  ....  1" 

"  I  think  she  does,  colonel.  Marriage  '11  cure  the  fellow. 
Nevil  will  slough  his  craze.  Off !  old  coat.  Cissy  will 
drive  him  in  strings.  '  My  wife  !'  I  hear  him."  Mr.  Rom- 
frey laughed  quietly.  "  It's  all  '  my  country,'  now.  The 
dog  '11  be  uxorious.     He  wants  fixing;  nothing  worse." 


312  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  How  he  goes  on  about  Shrapnel  !'* 

"  I  shouldn't  think  much  of  him  if  he  didn't." 

"  You're  one  in  a  thousand,  Romfrey.  I  object  to  seeing 
a  man  Avorshipped," 

"  It's  J^^evil's  green-sickness,  and  Shrapnel's  the  god  of  it." 

*'  I  trust  to  heaven  you're  right.  It  seems  to  me  young 
fellows  ought  to  be  out  of  it  earlier." 

"  They  generally  are."  Mr.  Romfrey  named  some  of  the 
processes  by  which  they  are  relieved  of  brain-flightiness, 
adding  philosophically,  "  This  way  or  that." 

His  quick  ear  caught  a  sound  of  hoofs  cantering  down  the 
avenue  on  the  l^orthern  front  of  the  house. 

He  consulted  his  watch.  "  Ten  minutes  to  eight.  Say  a 
quarter-past  for  dinner.     They're  here,  colonel." 

Mr,  Romfrey  met  Xevil  returning  from  the  stables. 
Cecilia  had  disappeared. 

"  Had  a  good  day  ?"  said  Mr.  Romfrey. 

Beauchamp  replied  :  "  I'll  tell  you  of  it  after  dinner,"  and 
passed  by  him. 

Mr.  Romfrey  edged  round  to  Colonel  Halkett,  conjecturing 
in  his  mind:  They  have  not  hit  it;  as  he  remarked:  "Bi-eak- 
fast  and  luncheon  have  been  omitted  in  this  day's  fare," 
which  appeared  to  the  colonel  a  confirmation  of  his  worst 
fears,  or  rather  the  extinction  of  his  last  spark  of  hope. 

He  knocked  at  his  daughter's  door  in  going  upstairs  to 
dress. 

Cecilia  presented  herself  and  kissed  him. 

"Well?"  said  he. 

"By-and-by,  papa,"  she  answered.  "I  have  a  headache. 
Beg  Mr.  Romfrey  to  excuse  me." 

"  No  news  for  me  ?" 

She  had  no  news. 

Mrs.  Culling  was  with  her.  The  colonel  stepped  on  mys- 
tified to  his  room. 

When  the  door  had  closed  Cecilia  turned  to  Rosamund 
and  burst  into  tears.  Rosamund  felt  that  it  must  be  some- 
thing grave  indeed  for  the  proud  young  lady  so  to  betray 
a  troubled  spirit. 

"  He  is  ill — Dr.  Shrapnel  is  very  ill,"  Cecilia  responded  to 
one  or  two  subdued  inquiries  in  as  clear  a  voice  as  she  could 
command. 

"  Where  have  you  heard  of  him  ?"  Rosamund  asked. 


THE  RIDE  IN  THE  WRONG  DIRECTION.  313 

"  We  have  been  there." 

"  Bevisham  ?  to  Bevisham  ?"  Rosamnnd  was  considering 
the  opinion  Mr.  Ronifrej  would  form  of  the  matter  from  thp 
point  of  view  of  his  horses. 

"It  was  Xcvil's  wish,"  said  Cecilia. 

"Yes?  and  jou  went  with  him,"  Rosamund  encouraged 
her  to  proceed,  gladdened  at  hearing  her  speak  of  Nevil  by 
that  name  ;  "  you  have  not  been  on  the  downs  at  all  ?" 

Cecilia  mentioned  a  junction  railway  station  they  had 
ridden  to ;  and  thence,  boxing  the  horses,  by  train  to  Bevis- 
ham. Rosamund  understood  that  some  haunting  anxiety  \ 
had  fretted  Nevil  during  the  night ;  in  the  morning  he  \ 
could  not  withstand  it,  and  he  begged  Cecilia  to  change 
their  destination,  apparently  with  a  vehemence  of  entreaty 
that  had  been  irresistible,  or  else  it  was  utter  affection  for 
him  had  reduced  her  to  undertake  the  distastefull^journey. 
She  admitted  that  she  was  not  the  most  sympathetic  com- 
panion Nevil  could  have  had  on  the  way,  either  going  or 
coming.  She  had  not  entered  Dr.  Shrapnel's  cottage.  Re- 
maining on  horseback  she  had  seen  the  poor  man  recliidng 
in  his  garden  chair.  Mr.  Lydiard  was  wibh  him,  and  also 
his  ward  Miss  Denham,  who  had  been  summoned  by  tele- 
graph by  one  of  the  servants  from  Switzerland.  And  Cecilia 
liad  heard  Nevil  speak  of  his  uncle  to  her,  and  too  humbly, 
she  hinted.  Nor  had  the  expression  of  Miss  Denham's 
countenance  in  listening  to  him  pleased  her  ;  but  it  was  true 
that  a  heavily  burdened  heart  cannot  be  expected  to  look 
pleasing.  On  the  way  home  Cecilia  had  been  compelled  in 
some  degree  to  defend  Mr.  Romfrey.  Blushing  through  her 
tears  at  the  remembrance  of  a  past  emotion  that  had  been 
mixed  with  foresight,  she  confessed  to  Rosamund  she  thought 
it  now  too  late  to  preve^it  a  rupture  between  Nevil  and  his 
uncle.  Had  some  one  whom  Nevil  trusted  and  cared  for 
taken  counsel  with  him  and  advised  him  before  uncle  and 
nephew  met  to  discuss  this  most  unhappy  matter,  then  there 
might  have  been  hope.  As  it  was,  the  fate  of  Dr.  Shrapnel 
had  gained  entire  possession  of  Nevil.  Every  retort  of  his 
uncle's  in  reference  to  it  rose  up  in  him  :  he  used  language 
of  contempt  neighbouring  abhorrence  :  he  stipulated  for  one 
sole  thing  to  win  back  his  esteem  for  his  uncle  ;  and  that 
was,  the  apology  to  Dr.  Shrapnel. 

"  And  to-night,"  Cecilia  concluded,  "  he  will  request  JVIr. 


314  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEE. 

E/omfrey  to  accompany  liina  to  Bevisliani  to-morrow  mo-'^'i. 
ing,  to  make  the  apology  in  person.  He  will  not  accept  tha 
slightest  evasion.  He  thinks  Dr.  Shrapnel  may  die,  and 
the  honour  of  the  family — what  is  it  he  says  of  it  ?"  Cecilia 
raised  her  eyes  to  the  ceiling,  while  Rosamund  blinked  in 
impatience  and  grief,  just  apprehending  the  alien  state  of 
the  young  lady's  mind  in  her  absence  of  recollection,  as  well 
as  her  bondage  in  the  effort  to  recollect  accurately. 

"  Have  you  not  eaten  any  food  to-day,  Miss  Halkett  ?" 
she  said  ;  for  it  might  be  the  want  of  food  which  had  broken 
her  and  changed  her  manner. 

Cecilia  replied  that  she  had  ridden  for  an  hour  to  Mount 
Laurels. 

"  Alone  ?  Mr.  RomPrey  must  not  hear  of  that,"  said 
Rosamund. 

Cecilia  consented  to  lie  down  on  her  bed.  She  declined 
the  dainties  Rosamund  pressed  on  her.  She  Avas  feverish 
with  a  deep  and  unconcealed  affliction,  and  behaved  as  if  her 
pride  had  gone.  But  if  her  pride  had  gone  she  would  have 
eased  her  heart  by  sobbing  outright.  A  similin-  division 
harassed  her  as  when  her  friend  Nevil  was  the  candidate  for 
Bevisham.  She  condemned  his  extreme  wrath  with  his 
uncle,  yet  was  attracted  and  enchained  by  the  fire  of  pas- 
sionate attachment  which  aroused  it :  and  she  was  conscious 
that  she  had  but  shown  obedience  to  his  wishes  throughout 
the  day,  not  sj-mpathy  with  his  feelings.  Under  cover  of 
a  patient  desire  to  please  she  had  nursed  irritation  and 
jealousy  ;  the  degradation  of  the  sense  of  jealousy  increas- 
ing the  irritation.  Having  consented  to  the  ride  to  Or. 
Shrapnel,  should  she  not,  to  be  consistent,  have  dismounted 
there  ?  O  half  heart  !  A  Avhole  one,  though  it  be  an 
erring,  like  that  of  the  French  lady,  does  at  least  live, 
and  has  a  history,  and  makes  music:  but  the  faint  and 
uncertain  is  jarred  in  action,  jarred  in  memory,  ever  behind 
the  day  and  in  the  shadow  of  it !  Cecilia  reviewed  her- 
self :  jealous,  disappointed,  vexed,  ashamed,  she  had  been 
all  day  a  graceless  companion,  a  bad  actress :  and  at 
the  day's  close  she  was  loving  Nevil  the  better  for  what 
had  dissatisfied,  distressed,  and  wounded  her.  She  was 
loving  him  in  emulation  of  his  devotedness  to  another  person: 
and  that  other  was  a  revolutionary  common  people's  doctor ! 
an  infidel,  a  traitor  to  his  country's  dearest  interests  !     But 


THE  EIDE  IN  THE  WEONQ  DIEECTION.  315 

I^evil  loved  him,  and  it  had  become  impossible  for  her  not  to 
covet  the  love,  or  to  think  of  the  old  offender  without  the 
halo  cast  by  N'evil's  attachment  being  upon  him.  So  intens  Ay- 
was  she  moved  bj  her  intertwisting  reflections  that  in  an 
access  of  bodih^  fever  she  stood  up  and  moved  before  the 
glass,  to  behold  the  image  of  the  w^oman  who  could  be  the 
victim  of  these  childish  emotions  :  and  no  wonderful  contrast 
struck  her  eyes  ;  she  appeared  to  herself  as  poor  and  small  as 
they.  How  could  she  aspire  to  a  man  like  ^N^evil  Beauchamp  ? 
If  he  had  made  her  happy  by  wooing  her  she  would  not  have 
adored  him  as  she  did  now.  He  likes  my  hair,  she  said, 
smoothing  it  out,  and  then  pressing  her  temples,  like  one 
insane.  Two  minutes  afterward  she  was  telling  Rosamund 
her  head  ached  less. 

"  This  terrible  Dr.  Shrapnel !"  Rosamund  exclaimed,  but 
reported  that  no  loud  voices  were  raised  in  the  dining-room. 

Colonel  Halkett  came  to  see  his  daughter,  full  of  anxiety 
and  curiosity.  •  Affairs  had  been  peaceful  below,  for  he  was 
ignorant  of  the  expedition  to  Bevisham.  On  hearing  of  it  he 
frowned,  questioned  Cecilia  as  to  whether  she  had  set  foot 
on  that  man's  grounds,  then  said  :  "Ah!  well,  we  leave  to- 
morrow :  I  must  go,  I  have  business  at  home  ;  I  can't  delay 
it.  I  sanctioned  no  calling  there,  nothing  of  the  kind.  From 
Steynham  to  Bevisham  ?  Goodness,  it's  rank  madness.  I'm 
not  astonished  you're  sick  and  ill." 

He  w^aited  till  he  was  assured  Cecilia  had  no  special 
matter  to  relate,  and  recommending  her  to  drink  the  tea  Mrs. 
Culling  had  made  for  her,  and  then  go  to  bed  and  sleep,  he 
went  down  to  the  drawing-room,  charged  with  the  worst  form 
of  hostility  toward  I^evil,  the  partly  diplomatic. 

Cecilia  smiled  at  her  father's  mention  of  sleep.  She  was 
in  the  contest  of  the  two  men,  however  inanimately  she 
might  be  lying  overhead,  and  the  assurance  in  her  mind  that 
neither  of  them  would  give  ground,  so  similar  were  they  in 
their  tenacity  of  will,  dissimilar  in  all  else,  dragged  her  this 
way  and  that  till  she  swayed  lifeless  between  them.  One 
may  be  as  a  weed  of  the  sea  while  one's  fate  is  being  decided, 
^o  love  is  to  be  on  the  sea,  out  of  sight  of  land :  to  love  a 
man  like  Nevil  Beauchamp  is  to  be  on  the  sea  in  tempest. 
Still  to  persist  in  loving  would  be  noble,  and  but  for  this 
humiliation  of  ntter  helplessness  an  enviable  power.  Her 
thoughts  ran  thus  in  shame  and  yearning  and  regret,  dimly 


316  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

discerning  where  her  heart  failed  in  the  strength  which  was 
j^'evil's,  though  it  was  a  full  heart,  faithful  and  not  void  of 
courage.  But  he  never  brooded,  he  never  blushed  from 
insufficiency — the  faintness  of  a  desire,  the  callow  passion 
that  cannot  fly  and  feed  itself  :  he  never  totteied  ;  he  walked 
straight  to  his  mark.  She  set  up  his  image  and  Renee's, 
and  cowered  under  the  heroical  shapes  till  she  felt  almost 
extinct.  With  her  weak  limbs  and  head  worthlessly  pain- 
ing, the  little  infantile  I  within  her  ceased  to  wail,  dwindled 
beyond  sensation.  Rosamund,  waiting  on  her  in  the  place 
of  her  maid,  saw  two  big  drops  come  through  her  closed 
eyelids,  and  thought  that  if  it  could  be  granted  to  Nevil  to 
look  for  a  moment  on  this  fair  and  proud  young  lady's  love- 
liness in  abandonment,  it  would  tame,  melt,  and  save  him. 
The  Gods  presiding  over  custom  do  not  permit  such  reno- 
vating sights  to  men. 


CHAPTER  XXXYI. 

PURSUIT  OF  THE  APOLOGY  OF  MR.  ROMFREY  TO  DR.  SHRAPXEL. 

The  contest,  which  was  an  alternation  of  luird  hitting 
and  close  wrestling,  had  recommenced  when  Colonel  Halkelt 
stepped  into  the  drawing-room. 

"  Colonel,  I  find  they've  been  galloping  to  Bevisham  and 
back,"  said  Mr.  Romfrey. 

•'I've  heard  of  it,"  the  colonel  replied.  Not  perceiving  a 
sign  of  dissatisfaction  on  his  friend's  face,  he  continued : 
"  To  that  man  Shra])uel." 

"  Cecilia  did  not  dismount,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"  You  took  her  to  that  man's  gate.  It  was  not  with  my 
sanction.     You  know  my  ideas  of  the  man." 

"  If  yon  were  to  see  him  now,  colonel,  I  don't  think  you 
would  speak  harshly  of  him." 

"  We're  not  obliged  to  go  and  look  on  men  who  have  had 
their  measure  dealt  them." 

"  Barbarously,"  said  Beauchamp. 

Mr.  Romfrey  in  the  most  placid  manner  took  a  chair. 
"  Windy  talk,  that !"  he  said. 


PURSUIT  OP  THE  APOLOGY  OP  MR.  ROMPREY.  317 

Colonel  Halkett  seated  himself.  Stukely  Oulbrett  turned 
a  sheet  of  manuscript  lie  was  reading. 

Beauehamp  began  a  caged  lion's  walk  on  the  rug  tinder 
the  mantelpiece. 

"  I  shall  not  spare  you  from  hearing  what  I  think  of  it, 
sir." 

"  We've  had  what  you  think  of  it  twice  over,"  said  Mr. 
Romfrey.  "  I  suppose  it  was  the  first  time  for  information, 
tlie  second  time  for  emphasis,  and  the  rest  counts  to  keep  it 
alive  in  your  recollection." 

"  This  is  what  you  have  to  take  to  heart,  sir ;  that  Dr. 
Shrapnel  is  now  seriousl}^  ill." 

"  I'm  sorry  for  it,  and  I'll  pay  the  doctor's  bill." 

"  You  make  it  hard  for  me  to  treat  you  with  respect." 

"  Fire  away.  Those  Radical  friends  of  yours  have  to 
learn  a  lv3sson,  and  it's  worth  a  purse  to  teach  them  that  a 
lady,  however  feeble  she  may  seem  to  them,  is  exactly  of 
the  strength  of  the  best  man  ol  her  acquaintance." 

"  That's  well  said !"  came  from  Colonel  Halkett. 

Beauchamp  stared  at  him,  amazed  by  the  commendation 
of  empty  language. 

"  You  acted  in  error ;  barbarously,  but  in  error,"  he 
addressed  his  uncle. 

"  And  you  have  got  a  fine  topic  for  mouthing,"  Mr. 
Romfrey  rejoined. 

"  You  mean  to  sit  still  under  Dr.  Shrapnel's  forgive- 
ness ?" 

"  He's  taken  to  copy  the  Christian  religion,  has  he  ?" 

**  You  know  you  were  deluded  when  you  struck  him.** 

"  Kot  a  whit." 

"  Yes,  you  know  it  now  :  Mrs.  Culling " 

"  Drag  in  no  woman,  Il^evil  Beauchamp  !" 

"  She  has  confessed  to  you  that  Dr.  Shrapnel  neither 
insulted  her  nor  meant  to  rulfie  her." 

"  She  has  done  no  such  nonsense." 

"  If  she  has  not ! — but  I  trust  her  to  have  done  it." 

"  You  play  the  trumpeter,  you  terrorize  her," 

"  Into  opening  her  lips  wider ;  nothing  else.  I'll  have  the 
truth  from  her,  and  no  mincing:  and  from  Cecil  Baskelett 
and  Palmet." 

"  Grive  Cecil  a  second  licking,  if  you  can,  and  have  him  off 
to  Shrapnel." 


318  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

"  Ton !"  cried  Beaucliamp. 

At  this  juncture  Stukely  Culbrett  closed  the  manuscript 
in  his  hands,  and  holding  it  out  to  Beauchamp,  said  :  "  Here's 
your  letter,  Xevil.  It's  tolerably  hard  to  decipher.  It's 
mild  enough  ;  it's  middling  good  pulpit.     I  like  it." 

"  What  have  you  got  there  ?"  Colonel  Halkett  asked  him. 

"  A  letter  of  his  friend  Dr.  Shrapnel  on  the  Country. 
Read  a  bit,  colonel." 

"  I  ?  That  letter !  Mild,  do  you  call  it  ?"  The  colonel 
started  back  his  chair  in  declining  to  touch  the  letter. 

"  Try  it,"  said  Stukely.  "  It's  the  letter  they  have  been 
making  the  noise  about.  It  ought  to  be  printed.  There's  a 
hit  or  two  at  the  middle-class  that  I  should  like  to  see  in 
print.  It's  really  not  bad  pulpit ;  and  I  suspect  that  what 
you  object  to,  colonel,  is  only  the  dust  of  a  well-thumped 
cushion.  Shrapnel  thumps  with  his  fist.  He  doesn't  say 
much  that's  new.  If  the  parsons  were  men  they'd  be  saying 
it  every  Sunday.  If  they  did,  colonel,  I  should  hear  yon 
saying  amen." 

"  Wait  till  they  do  say  it." 

"  That's  a  long  stretch.  They're  turncocks  of  one  Water- 
company — to  wash  the  greasy  citizens  !" 

"  You're  keeping  Xevil  on  the  gape,"  said  Mr.  Romfrey, 
with  a  whimsical  shrewd  cast  of  the  eye  at  Beancham]),  who 
stood  alert  not  to  be  foiled,  arrow-like  in  look  and  readiness 
to  repeat  his  home-shot.  Mr.  Romfrey  wanted  to  liear  more 
of  that  unintelligible  "You!"  of  Beauchamp's.  But  Stukely 
Culbrett  intended  that  the  latter  should  be  foiled,  and  he 
continued  his  diversion  from  the  angry  subject. 

"  We'll  drop  the  sacerdotals,"  he  said.  "  They're  behind 
a  veil  for  us,  and  so  are  we  for  them.  I'm  with  you,  colonel ; 
I  wouldn't  have  them  persecuted  ;  they  sting  fearfully  when 
whipi3ed.  No  one  listens  to  them  now  except  the  class  that 
-goes  to  sleep  under  them,  to  '  set  an  example '  to  the  class 
that  can't  understand  them.  Shrapnel  is  like  the  breeze 
shaking  the  turf-grass  outside  the  church-doors  ;  a  trifle 
fresher.     He  knocks  nothing  down." 

"  He  can't !"  ejaculated  the  colonel. 

"  He  sermonizes  to  shake,  that's  all.  I  know  the  kind  of 
man." 

"  Thank  heaven,  it's  not  a  common  species  in  England !" 


PURSUIT  OS'  THE  APOLOGY  OF  ME.  EOMFREY.  319 

"  Common  enougli  to  be  classed." 

Beauchamp  struck  tlirongli  tbe  conversation  of  the  pair : 
"  Can  I  see  you  alone  to-night,  sir,  or  to-morrow  morning  P" 

"  Yon  maj  catch  me  where  you  can,"  was  Mr.  Romfrey's 
answer. 

"  Where's  that  ?  It's  for  your  sake  and  mine,  not  for  Dr. 
Shrapnel's.  I  have  to  speak  to  you,  and  must.  You  have 
done  your  worst  with  him  ;  you  can't  undo  it.  You  have  to 
think  of  your  honour  as  a  gentleman.  I  intend  to  treat  you 
with  respect,  but  wolf  is  the  title  now,  whether  I  say  it  or 
not." 

"  Shrapnel's  a  rather  long-legged  sheep  ?" 

"  He  asks  for  nothing  from  you." 

"  He  would  have  got  nothing,  at  a  cry  of  peccavi  !'* 

"  He  was  innocent,  perfectly  blameless  ;  he  would  not  lie 
to  save  himself.  You  mistook  that  for — but  you  were  an 
engine  shot  along  a  line  of  rails.  He  does  you  the  justice  to 
say  you  acted  in  error." 

"  And  you're  his  parrot.** 

"  He  pardons  you." 

"  Ha  !  t'other  cheek  !" 

"  You  went  on  that  brute's  errand  in  ignorance.  Will  you 
keep  to  the  chai-acter  now  you  know  the  truth  ?  Hesitation 
about  it  doubles  the  infamy.  An  old  man  !  the  best  of  men ! 
the  kindest  and  truest !  the  most  unselhsh  !" 

"  He  tops  me  by  half  a  head,  and  he's  my  junior." 

Beauchamp  suffered  himself  to  give  out  a  groan  of  sick 
derision  :  "  Ah  !" 

"  And  it  was  no  joke  holding  him  tight,"  said  Mr.  Romfrey, 
"  I'd  as  lief  snap  an  ash.  The  fellow  (he  leaned  round  to 
Colonel  Halkett)  must  be  a  fellow  of  a  fine  constitution. 
And  he  took  his  punishment  like  a  man.  I've  known  worse : 
and  far  worse :  gentlemen  by  birth.  There's  the  choice  of 
taking  it  upright  or  fighting  like  a  rabbit  with  a  weasel  in 
his  hole.  Leave  him  to  think  it  over,  he'll  come  right.  I 
think  no  harm  of  him,  I've  no  animus.  A  man  must  have 
his  lesson  at  some  time  of  life.     I  did  what  I  had  to  do." 

"  Look  here,  Xevil,"  Stukely  Culbrett  checked  Beauchamp 
in  season  :  "  I  beg  to  inquire  what  Dr.  Shrapnel  means  by 
'  the  people.'  We  have  in  our  country  the  nobles  and  the 
squires,   and  after  them,   as  I  understand   it,  the   people  ■ 


320  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

that's  to  say,  tlie  middle-class  and  the  working-class — fat 
and  lean.  I'm  quite  with  Shrapnel  when  he  laslies  tli? 
fleshpots.  They  want  it,  and  they  don't  get  it  from  '  their 
organ,'  the  Press.  I  fancy  you  and  I  agree  about  their 
organ;  the  dismallest  organ  that  ever  ground  a  hackneyed 
set  of  songs  and  hymns  to  madden  the  thoroughfares." 

"  The  Press  of  our  country !"  interjected  Colonel  Halkett 
in  moaning  parenthesis. 

"  It's  the  week-day  Parson  of  the  middle-class,  colonel. 
They  have  their  thinking  done  for  them  as  the  Chinese  have 
their  dancing.  But,  N'evil,  your  Dr.  Shrapnel  seems  to  treat 
the  traders  as  identical  with  the  aristocracy  in  opposition  to 
his  '  people.'  The  traders  are  the  cursed  middlemen,  bad 
friends  of  the  '  people,'  and  infernally  treacherous  to  the 
nobles  till  money  hoists  them.  It's  they  who  pull  down  the 
country.  They  hold  up  the  nobles  to  the  hatred  of  the 
democracy,  and  the  democracy  to  scare  the  nobles.  One's 
when  they  want  to  swallow  a  privilege,  and  the  other's  when 
they  want  to  ring-fence  their  gains.  How  is  it  Shrapnel 
doesn't  expose  the  trick  ?  He  must  see  through  it.  I  like 
that  letter  of  his.  People  is  one  of  your  Radical  big  words 
that  burst  at  a  query.  He  can't  mean 'Quince,  and  iJottom, 
and  Starveling,  Christopher  Sly,  Jack  Cade,  Caliban,  and 
poor  old  Hodge  ?  No,  no,  Xevil.  Our  clowns  are  the  stupidest 
in  Europe.  They  can't  cook  their  meals.  They  can't  spell ; 
they  can  scarcely  speak.  They  haven't  a  jig  in  their  legs. 
And  I  believe  they're  losing  their  grin  !  They're  nasty 
when  their  blood's  up.  ^Shakespeare's  Cade  tells  you  what 
he  thought  of  Radicalizing  the  people.  '  And  as  for  your 
mother,  I'll  make  her  a  duke  ;"  that's  one  of  their  songs. 
The  word  people,  in  England,  is  a  d^^speptic  agitator's  dream 
when  he  falls  nodding  over  the  red  chapter  of  French  his- 
tory. Who  won  the  great  liberties  for  England  ?  My  book 
says,  the  nobles.  And  who  made  the  great  stand  later  ? — 
the  squires.  What  have  the  middlemen  done  but  bid  for 
the  people  they  despise  and  fear,  dishonour  us  abroad  and 
make  a  hash  of  us  at  home  ?  Shrapnel  sees  that.  Only  he 
has  got  the  word  people  in  his  mouth.  The  people  of  Eng- 
land, my  dear  fellow,  want  heading.  Since  the  traders 
obtained  power  we  have  been  a  country  on  all  fours.  Of 
course  Shrapnel  sees  it:  I  say  so.  But  talk  to  him  and 
teach  him  where  to  look  for  the  rescue." 


PURSUIT  OF  THE  APOLOGY  OF  ME.  EO.MFEEY.     321 

Colonel  Halkett  said  to  Stukelj :  "  If  you  Jiave  had  a 
clear  idea  in  what  jou  have  jnst  spoken,  my  head's  no  place 
for  it!" 

Stukely's  unusually  lengthy  observations  had  somewhat 
heated  him,  and  he  protested  with  earnestness  :  "  It  was 
pure  Tory,  my  dear  colonel." 

But  the  habitually  and  professedly  cynical  should  not 
deliver  themselves  at  length :  for  as  soon  as  they  miss  their 
customary  incision  of  speech  they  are  apt  to  aim  to  recover 
it  in  loquacity,  and  thus  it  may  be  that  the  survey  of  their 
ideas  becomes  disordered. 

Mr.  Culbrett  endangered  his  reputation  for  epigi^am  in  a 
good  cause,  it  shall  be  said. 

These  interruptions  were  torture  to  Beauchamp.  Never- 
theless the  end  was  gained.     He  sank  into  a  chair  silent. 

JVir.  Romfrey  wished  to  have  it  out  with  his  Dephew,  of 
whose  comic  appearance  as  a  man  full  of  thunder,  and  occa- 
sionally rattling,  yet  all  the  while  trying  to  be  decorous 
and  politic,  he  was  getting  tired.  He  foresaw  that  a  tussle 
between  them  in  private  would  possibly  be  too  hot  for  his 
temper,  admirably  under  control  though  it  was. 

"Why  not  drag  Cecil  to  Shrapnel  r"  he  said,  for  a  pro- 
vocation. 

Beauchamp  would  not  be  goaded. 

Colonel  Halkett  remarked  that  he  would  have  to  leave 
Steynham  the  next  day.  His  host  remonstrated  with  liim. 
The  colonel  said :  "  Early."  He  had  very  particular  business 
at  home.  He  was  positive,  and  declined  every  inducement 
to  stay.  Mr.  Romfrey  glanced  at  iN'evil,  thinkiug,  You  poor 
fool !  And  then  he  determined  to  let  the  fellow  have  five 
minutes  alone  with  him. 

This  occurred  at  midnight,  in  that  half-armoury,  half- 
library,  which  was  his  private  room. 

Rosamund  heard  their  voices  below.  She  cried  out  to 
herself  that  it  was  her  doing,  and  blamed  her  beloved,  and 
her  master,  and  Dr.  Shrapnel,  in  the  breath  of  her  self- 
recrimination.  The  demagogue,  the  over-punctilious  gen- 
tleman, the  faint  lover,  surely  it  must  be  reason  wanting  in 
the  three  for  each  of  them  in  turn  to  lead  the  other,  by  an 
excess  of  some  sort  of  the  quality  constituting  tlieir  men's 
natures,  to  wreck  a  calm  life  and  stand  in  contention  !  Had 
Shrapnel  been  commonly  reasonable  he  would  have  apolo. 

1 


322  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

gized  to  Mr.  Romfrej,  or  had  Mr.  Romfrey,  lie  would  not 
have  resorted  to  force  to  punish  the  supposed  offender,  or 
had  N'evil,  he  would  have  held  his  peace  antil  he  had  gained 
his  bride  As  it  was,  the  folly  of  the  three  knocked  at 
her  heart,  uniting  to  bring  the  heavy  accusation  against  one 
poor  woman,  quite  in  the  old  way :  the  Who  is  she  ?  of  the 
mocking  Spaniard  at  mention  of  a  social  catastrophe.  Rosa- 
mund had  a  great  deal  of  the  pride  of  her  sex,  and  she 
resented  any  slur  on  it.  She  felt  almost  superciliously 
toward  Mr.  Romfrey  and  Nevil  for  their  not  taking  hands 
to  denounce  the  plotter,  Cecil  Baskelett.  They  seemed  a 
pair  of  victims  to  him,  nearly  as  much  so  as  the  wretched 
man  Shrapnel.  It  was  their  senselessness  which  made  her 
guilty  !  And  simply  because  she  had  uttered  two  or  three 
exclamations  of  dislike  of  a  revolutionary  and  infidel  she 
was  compelled  to  gi-oan  under  her  present  oppression !  Is 
there  anything  to  be  hoped  of  men  ?  Rosamund  thought 
bitterly  of  N evil's  idea  of  their  progress.  Heaven  help 
them !  But  the  unhappy  creatures  have  ceased  to  look  to  a 
heaven  for  help. 

We  see  the  consequence  of  it  in  this  Shrapnel  complica- 
tion. 

Three  men :  and  one  struck  down ;  the  other  defeated 
in  his  benevolent  intentions  ;  the  third  sacrificing  fortune 
and  happiness :  all  three  owing  their  mischance  to  one  or 
other  of  the  vague  ideas  disturbing  men's  heads  !  Where 
shall  we  look  for  mother  wit  ? — or  say,  common  suckling's 
instinct  ?     Not  to  men,  thought  Rosamund. 

She  was  listening  to  the  voices  of  Mr,  Romfrey  and 
Beauchamp  in  a  fever.  Ordinai'ily  the  lord  of  Steynham 
was  not  out  of  his  bed  later  than  twelve  o'clock  at  night. 
His  door  opened  at  half -past  one.  Xot  a  syllable  was 
exchanged  by  the  couple  in  the  hall.  They  had  fought  it 
out.  Mr.  Romfrey  came  upstaii's  alone,  and  on  the  closing 
of  his  chamber-door  she  slijDped  down  to  Beauchamp  and 
had  a  dreadful  hour  with  him  that  subdued  her  disposition 
to  sit  in  judgement  upon  men.  The  unavailing  attempt  to 
move  his  uncle  had  Avrought  him  to  the  state  in  which 
passionate  thoughts  pass  into  speech  like  heat  to  flame. 
Rosamund  strained  her  mental  sight  to  gain  a  conception 
of  his  prodigious  horror  of  the  treatment  of  Dr.  Shrapnel, 
that  she  might  think  him  sane  :  and  to  retain  a  vestige  of 


PUESUIT  OF  THE  APOLOGY  OF  MR.  KOMFREY.  323 

comfort  in  her  bosom  she  tried  to  moderate  and  make  light 
of  as  much  as  she  could  conceive.  Between  the  two  efforts 
she  had  no  sense  but  that  of  helplessness.  Once  more  she 
was  reduced  to  promise  that  she  w^ould  speak  the  whole 
truth  to  Mr.  Eomfrey,  even  to  the  fact  that  she  had  expe- 
rienced a  common  woman's  jealousy  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's 
influence,  and  had  alluded  to  him  jealoudy,  spitefullv,  and 
falsely.  There  w^as  no  mercy  in  Beauchauip.  He  was  for 
action  at  any  cost,  with  all  the  forces  he  could  gather,  and 
without  delays.  He  talked  of  Cecilia  as  his  uncle's  bribe 
to  him.  Rosamund  could  hardly  trust  her  eaj's  when  he 
informed  her  he  had  told  his  uncle  of  his  determination  to 
compel  him  to  accomplish  the  act  of  penitence.  "  Was  it 
prudent  to  say  it,  JS'evil  ?"  she  asked.  But,  as  in  his  politics, 
he  disdained  prudence,  A  monstrous  crime  had  been  com- 
mitted, involving  the  honour  of  the  family  : — no  subtlety 
of  insinuation,  no  suggestion,  could  vrean  him  from  the 
fixed  idea  that  the  apology  to  Dr.  Shrapnel  must  be  spoken 
by  his  uncle  in  person. 

"  If  one  could  only  imagine  Mr.  llomfrey  doing  it !" 
Rosamund  groaned. 

"He  shall:  and  you  will  help  him,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"  If  you  loved  a  woman  half  as  much  as  you  do  that 
man!" 

"  If  I  knew  a  w^oman  as  good,  as  wise,  as  noble  as  he  !" 

"  You  are  losing  her." 

"  You  expect  me  to  go  through  ceremonies  of  courtship  at 
a  time  like  this  !  If  she  cares  for  me  she  will  feel  with  me. 
Simple  compassion — but  let  Miss  Halkett  be.  I'm  afraid  I 
overtasked  her  in  taking  her  to  Bevisham,  She  remained 
outside  the  garden.  Ma'am,  she  is  unsullied  by  contact 
with  a  single  shrub  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's  territory." 

"  Do  not  be  so  bitterly  ironical,  Nevil,  You  have  not 
seen  her  as  I  have." 

Rosamund  essayed  a  tender  sketch  of  the  fair  young  lady, 
and  fancied  that  she  drew  forth  a  sigh  ;  she  would  have 
coloured  the  sketch,  but  he  commanded  her  to  hurry  oif  to 
bed,  and  think  of  her  morning's  work. 

A  commission  of  wdiich  we  feel  we  can  accni-ately  forecast 
the  unsuccessful  end  is  not  likely  to  be  undertaken  with  an 
ardour  that  might  perhaps  astound  the  presageing  mind  with 
unexpected  iasues.     Rosamund  fulfilled  hers  in  the  sfyle  of 

y2 


324  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEEE. 

Dne  who  has  learnt  a  lesson,  and,  exactly  as  she  had  antici- 
pated, Mr.  Romfrey  accused  her  of  coming  to  him  from  a  con- 
versation with  thctt  fellow  Nevil  overnight.  He  shrugged  and 
left  the  house  for  his  morning's  walk  across  the  fields. 

Colonel  Halkett  and  Cecilia  beheld  him  from  the  breakfast- 
room  returning  with  Beauchamp,  who  had  waylaid  him  and 
w^as  hammering  his  part  in  the  novr-endless  altercation.  It 
could  be  descried  at  any  distance  ;  and  how^  fine  was  Mr. 
Romf rey's  bearing  ! — truly  noble  by  contrast,  as  of  a  grave 
big  dog  worried  by  a  small  barking  dog.  There  is  to  an  un- 
sympathetic observer  an  intense  vexatiousness  in  the  exhi- 
bition of  such  pertinacity.  To  a  soldier  accustomed  at  a 
glance  to  estimate  powers  of  attack  and  defence,  this  repeated 
puny  assailing  of  a  fortress  that  required  years  of  siege  was 
in  addition  ridiculous.  Mr.  Romfrey  appeared  impregnable, 
and  Beauchamp  mad.  "He's  foaming  again!"  said  the 
colonel,  and  was  only  ultra-pictorial.  "  Before  breakfast !" 
w^as  a  further  slur  on  Beauchamp. 

Mr.  Romfrey  was  elevated  by  the  extraordinary  comicality 
of  the  notion  of  the  proposed  apology  to  heights  of  humour 
beyond  laughter,  whence  we  see  the  unbounded  capacity  of 
the  general  man  for  folly,  and  rather  commiserate  than 
deride  him.  He  was  quite  untroubled.  It  demanded  a 
steady  view  of  the  other  side  of  the  case  to  suppose  of  one 
whose  control  of  his  temper  was  perfect,  that  he  could  be  in 
the  w^rong.  He  at  least  did  not  think  so,  and  Colonel  Halkett 
relied  on  his  common  sense.  Beauchamp's  brows  were 
smouldering  heavily,  except  when  he  had  to  talk.  He  looked 
paleish  and  worn,  and  said  he  had  been  up  eai'ly.  Cecilia 
guessed  that  he  had  not  been  to  bed. 

It  was  dexterously  contrived  by  her  host,  in  spite  of  the 
colonel's  manifest  anxiety  to  keep  them  asunder,  that  she 
should  have  some  minutes  with  Beauchamp  out  in  the 
gardens.  Mr.  Romfrey  led  them  out,  and  then  led  the 
colonel  away  to  offer  him  a  choice  of  pups  of  rare  breed. 

"  xS^evil,"  said  Cecilia,  "  you  will  not  think  it  presumption 
in  me  to  give  you  advice  ?" 

Her  counsel  to  him  was,  that  he  should  leave  Steynham 
immediately,  and  trust  to  time  for  his  uncle  to  reconsider  his 
Donduct. 

Beauchamp  urged  the  counter-argument  of  the  stain  on 
the  family  honour. 


PUESUIT  OF  THE  APOLOGY  OF  MR.  ROMFREY.  320 

She  hinted  at  expediency  ;  he  frankly  repudiated  it. 

The  downs  faced  them,  where  the  heavenly  vast  '  might 
have  been  '  of  yesterday  wandered  thinner  than  a  shadow  of 
to-day;  weaving  a  story  without  beginning,  crisis,  or  con- 
clusion, flowerless  and  fruitless,  but  with  something  of 
infinite  in  it  sweeter  to  brood  on  than  the  future  of  her  life 
to  Cecilia. 

"  If  meanwhile  Dr.  Shrapnel  should  die,  and  repentance 
comes  too  late !"  said  Beauchamp. 

She  had  no  clear  answer  to  that,  save  the  hope  of  its  being 
an  unfounded  apprehension.  "  As  far  as  it  is  in  my  power, 
Nevil,  I  will  avoid  injustice  to  him  in  my  tlionghts." 

He  gazed  at  her  thankfully.  "Well,"  said  he,  "that's 
like  sighting  the  cliffs.  But  I  don't  feel  home  round  me 
wdiile  the  colonel  is  so  strangely  prepossessed.  For  a  high- 
spirited  gentleman  like  your  father  to  approve,  or  at  least 
accept,  an  act  so  barbarous  is  incomprehensible.  Speak  to 
him,  Cecilia,  will  you  ?     Let  him  know  your  ideas." 

She  assented.  He  said  instantly,  "  Persuade  him  to  speak 
to  my  uncle  Everard." 

She  was  tempted  to  smile. 

"  I  must  do  only  w^hat  I  think  wise,  if  I  am  to  be  of 
service,  JSTevil." 

"  True,  but  paint  that  scene  to  him.  An  old  man,  utterly 
defenceless,  making  no  defence  !  a  cruel  error  !  The  colonel 
can't,  or  he  doesn't,  clearly  get  it  inside  him.  otherwise  I'm 
certain  it  w^ould  revolt  him  :  just  as  I'm  certain  my  uncle 
Everard  is  at  this  moment  a  stone-blind  man.  If  he  has 
done  a  thing,  he  can't  question  it,  won't  examine  it.  The 
thing  becomes  a  part  of  him,  as  much  as  his  hand  or  his 
head.  He's  a  man  of  the  tAvelfth  century.  Your  father 
might  be  helped  to  understand  him  fii^st." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  not  very  warmly,  though  sadly. 

"  Tell  the  C0i0n?l  how  it  must  have  been  brought  about. 
For  Cecil  Baskelett  called  on  Dr.  Shrapnel  two  days  before 
Mr.  Romfrey  stood  at  his  gate." 

The  name  of  Cecil  caused  her  to  draw  in  her  shoulders  in 
a  half-shudder.  "  It  may  indeed  be  Captain  Baskelett  who 
set  this  cruel  thing  in  motion  !" 

"  Then  point  that  out  to  your  father,"  said  he,  perceiving 
a  chance  of  winning  her  to  his  views  through  a  concrete 
object   of   her   dislike,  and  cooling  toward  the  woman  who 


826  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

betrayed  a  vulgar  characteristic  of  her  sex  ;  who  was  merely 
woman,  unable  sternly  to  recognize  the  doing  of  a  foul  wrong 
because  of  her  antipathy,  until  another  antipathy  enlight- 
ened her. 

He  wanted  in  fact  a  ready-made  heroine,  and  did  not  give 
her  credit  for  the  absence  of  fire  in  her  blood,  as  well  as  for 
the  unexercised  imagination  which  excludes  young  women 
from  the  power  to  realize  unwonted  circumstances.  We 
'men  walking  about  the  world  have  perhaps  no  more  imagin- 
ation of  matters  not  domestic  than  they  ;  but  Hvhat  we  have 
is  quick  with  experience  :  we  see  the  thing  we  hear  of : 
women  come  to  it  how  they  can. 

Cecilia  was  recommended  to  weave  a  narrative  for  her 
father,  and  ultimately  induce  him,  if  she  could,  to  give  a 
gentleman's  opinion  of  the  case  to  Mr.  Romfrey. 

Her  sensitive  ear  caught  a  change  of  tone  in  the  directions 
she  received.  "  Your  father  will  say  so  and  so  :  answer  him 
with  this  and  that."  Beauchamp  supplied  her  with  phrases. 
She  was  to  renew  and  renew  the  attack  ;  hammer  as  he  did. 
Yesterday  she  had  followed  him  :  to-day  she  was  to  march 
beside  him — hardly  as  an  equal.  Patience  !  was  the  word 
she  would  have  uttered  in  her  detection  of  the  one  frailty  in 
his  nature  which  this  hurrying  of  her  off  her  feet  opened  her 
eyes  to  with  unusual  perspicacity.  Still  she  leaned  to  him 
sufficiently  to  admit  that  he  had  grounds  for  a  deep  disturb- 
ance of  his  feelings. 

He  said  :  "  I  go  to  Dr.  Shrapnel's  cottage,  and  don't  know 
how  to  hold  ap  my  head  before  Miss  Denliam.  She  confided 
him  to  me  when  she  left  for  Switzerland  !" 

TJiere  was  that  to  be  thought  of,  certainly. 

Colonel  Halkett  came  round  a  box-bush  and  discovered 
them  pacing  together  in  a  fashion  to  satisfy  his  paternal 
scrutiny. 

*'  I've  been  calling  you  several  times,  my  dear,"  he  com- 
plained. "  We  start  in  seven  minutes.  Bustle,  and  bonnet 
at  once.  N"evil,  I'm  sorry  for  this  business.  Good-bye.  Be 
a  good  boy,  Nevil,"  he  murmured  kind-heartedly,  and  shook 
Beauchamp's  hand  with  the  cordiality  of  an  extreme  relief 
in  leaving  him  behind. 

The  colonel  and  Mr.  Romfrey  and  Beauchamp  were  stand- 
ing on  the  hall-steps  when  Rosamund  beckoned  the  latter 


P0ESUIT  OF  THE  APOLOGY  OF  MR.  ROM-FTuEY.  327 

and  whispered  a  request  for  that  letter  of  Dr.  Slirapiiel's. 
"  It  is  for  Miss  Halkett,  JSTevil." 

He  plucked  the  famous  epistle  from  his  bulging  pocket- 
book,  and  added  a  couple  of  others  in  the  same  handwriting. 

"  Tell  her,  a  first  reading — it's  difficult  to  read  at  first," 
he  said,  and  burned  to  read  it  to  Cecilia  himself:  to  read  it 
to  her  with  his  comments  and  explanations  appeared 
imperative.  It  struck  him  in  a  flash  that  Cecilia's  counsel 
to  him  to  quit  Steynham  for  awhile  was  good.  And  if  he 
went  to  Bevisham  he  would  be  assured  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's 
condition  :  notes  and  telegrams  from  the  cottage  were  too 
much  tempered  to  console  and  deceive  him. 

"  Send  my  portmanteau  and  bag  after  me  to  Bevisham," 
he  said  to  Rosamund,  and  announced  to  the  woefully  asto- 
nished colonel  that  he  would  have  the  pleasure  of  journey- 
ing in  his  company  as  far  as  the  town. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?     Xo  packing  ?  "  said  the  colonel. 

"  It's  better  to  have  your  impediments  in  the  rear  of  you, 
and  march  !  "  said  Mr.  Romfrey. 

Colonel  Halkett  declined  to  wait  for  anybody.  He  shouted 
for  his  daughter.  The  lady's  maid  appeared,  and  then 
Cecilia  with  Rosamund. 

"  We  can't  entertain  you,  Nevil ;  we're  away  to  the  island  : 
I'm  sorry,"  said  the  colonel ;  and  observing  Cecilia's  face  in 
full  crimson,  he  looked  at  her  as  if  he  had  lost  a  battle  by 
the  turn  of  events  at  the  final  moment. 

Mr.  Romfrey  handed  Cecilia  into  the  carriage.  He 
exchanged  a  friendl}^  squeeze  with  the  colonel,  and  offei-ed 
his  hand  to  his  nephew.  Beauchamp  passed  him  with  a  nod 
and  "  Good-bye,  sir." 

"  Have  ready  at  Holdesbury  for  the  middle  of  the  month," 
said  Mr.  RomtVey,  unruffled,  and  bowed  to  Cecilia. 

"  If  you  think  of  bringing  my  cousin  Baskelett,  give  mc 
warning,  sir,"  cried  Beauchamp. 

"  Give  me  warning,  if  you  want  the  house  for  Shrapnel," 
replied  his  uncle,  and  remarked  to  Rosamund,  as  the  car- 
riage wheeled  round  the  mounded  laurels  to  the  avenue, 
"  He  mayn't  be  quite  cracked.  The  fellow  seems  to  have  a 
turn  for  catching  his  opportunity  by  the  tail.  He  had  better 
hold  fast,  for  it's  his  last." 


a28  BEAUCHAMP's  CAKEEU. 

CHAPTER  XXXVn. 

CECILIA  CONQUERED. 

The  carriage  rolled  out  of  the  avenue  and  tlirouprli  the 
park,  for  some  time  parallel  with  the  wavy  downs.  Once 
away  from  Steynham  Colonel  Halkett  breathed  freely,  as  if 
he  iaad  dropped  a  load:  he  was  free  of  his  bond  to  Mr. 
Romfrey,  and  so  great  was  the  sense  of  relief  in  him  that  he 
resolved  to  do  battle  against  his  daughter,  supposing  her 
still  lively  blush  to  be  the  sign  of  the  enemy's  flag  run 
up  on  a  surrendered  citadel.  His  authority  was  now  to  be 
thought  of :  his  paternal  sanction  was  in  his  own  keeping. 
Beautiful  as  she  looked,  it  was  hardly  credible  that  a  fellow 
in  possession  of  his  reason  could  have  let  slip  his  chance  of 
such  a  prize;  but  whether  he  had  oi-  had  not,  the  colonel 
felt  that  he  occupied  a  position  enaMiug  him  either  to  out- 
manoeuvre, or,  if  need  were,  interpose  forcibly  and  punish 
him  for  his  half-heartedness. 

Cecilia  looked  the  loveliest  of  women  to  Beauchamp's 
eyes,  with  her  blush,  and  the  letters  of  Dr.  Shrapnel  in  her 
custody,  at  her  express  desire.  Certain  terms  in  the  letters 
here  and  there,  unsweet  to  ladies,  began  to  trouble  his  mind. 

"By  the  way,  colonel,"  he  said,  "you  had  a  letter  of 
Dr.  Shrapnel's  read  to  you  by  Ca])tnin  Baskelett." 

"  Iniquitous  rubbish  !" 

"  With  his  comments  on  it,  I  dare  say  you  thought  it  so. 
I  won't  spealc  of  his  right  to  make  it  pulDlic.  He  wanted  to 
produce  his  impressions  of  it  and  me,  and  that  is  a  matter 
between  him  and  me.  Dr.  Shrapnel  makes  use  of  strong 
words  now  and  then,  but  I  undertake  to  produce  a  totally 
different  impression  on  you  by  reading  the  letter  myself — 
sparing  you"  (he  turned  to  Cecilia)  "  a  word  or  two,  com- 
mon enough  to  men  who  write  in  black  earnest  and  have 
humour."  He  cited  his  old  favourite,  the  black  and  bright 
lecturer  on  Heroes.  "  You  have  read  him,  I  know,  Cecilia. 
Well,  Dr.  Shrapnel  is  another,! who  writes  in  his  own  style. 
not  the  leading-article  style  or  modern  pulpit  stuff.  Ho 
writes  to  rouse." 

"He  does  that  to  my  temper,"  said  the  colonel. 

**  Perhaps  here  and  there  he  might  offend  Cecilia's  taste," 


CECILIA  CONQUERED.  ^29 

Beauclianip  pursued  for  her  behoof.  "  Everything  depends 
on  the  mouthpiece.  I  should  not  like  the  letter  to  be  read 
without  my  being  by ; — except  by  men :  any  just-minded 
man  may  read  it :  Seymour  Austin,  for  example.  Every 
line  is  a  text  to  the  mind  of  the  writer.  Let  me  call  on  you 
to  morrow." 

"  To-morrow  ?"  Colonel  Halkett  put  on  a  thoughtful  air. 
"  To-morrow  we're  off  to  the  island  for  a  couple  of  days ; 
and  there's  Lord  Croyston's  garden  party,  and  the  Yacht 
Ball.  Come  this  evening — dine  with  us.  Xo  reading  of 
letters,  please.     I  can't  stand  it,  Nevil." 

The  invitation  was  necessarily  declined  by  a  gentleman 
who  could  not  expect  to  be  followed  by  supplies  of  clothes 
and  linen  for  evening  wear  that  day. 

"  Ah,  we  shall  see  you  some  day  or  other,"  said  the 
colonel. 

Cecilia  was  less  alive  to  Beauchamp's  endeavour  to  pre- 
pare her  for  the  harsh  words  in  the  letter  than  to  her 
father's  insincerity.  She  would  have  asked  her  friend  to 
come  in  the  morning  next  day,  but  for  the  dread  of  deepen- 
ing her  blush. 

"  Do  you  intend  to  start  so  early  in  the  morning,  papa  ?" 
she  ventured  to  say;  and  he  replied,  "  As  early  as  possible." 

"  I  don't  know  what  news  I  shall  have  in  Bevisham,  or  I 
would  engage  to  run  over  to  the  island,"  said  Beauchamp, 
with  a  flattering  persistency  or  singular  obtuseness. 

"You  will  dance,"  he  subsequentl}^  observed  to  Cecilia, 
out  of  the  heart  of  some  reverie.  He  had  been  her  admiring 
partner  on  the  night  before  the  drive  fi-om  Itchincope  into 
Bevisham,  and  perhaps  thought  of  her  graceful  dancing  at 
the  Yacht  Ball,  and  the  contrast  it  would  present  to  his 
watch  beside  a  sick  man — struck  down  by  one  of  his  own 
family. 

She  could  have  answered,  "  Not  if  you  wish  me  not  to ;" 
while  smiling  at  the  quaint  sorrowfulness  of  his  tone. 

"  Dance  !"  quoth  Colonel  Halkett,  whose  present  temper 
discerned  a  healthy  antagonism  to  misanthropic  Kadicals  in 
the  performance,  "  all  young  people  dance.  Have  you  given 
over  dancing  ?" 

"  Not  entirely,  colonel." 

Cecilia   danced   with    Mr.    Tuckham  at  the  Yacht    Ball, 


330  BEAUCHAMP  S  CAREER. 

and  was  vividly  mindful  of  everj^  slight  incident  leading 
to  and  succeeding  lier  lover's  abrupt,  "You  will  dance:" 
whicli  liad  all  passed  by  ber  dream-like  up  to  that  hour: 
bis  attempt  to  forewarn  ber  of  tbe  pbrases  sbe  would  deem 
objectionable  in  Dr.  Shrapnel's  letter ;  his  mild  acceptation 
of  her  feather's  hostility ;  his  adieu  to  her,  and  his  melan- 
choly departure  on  foot  from  the  station,  as  she  drove  away 
to  Mount  Laurels  and  gaiety.  Why  do  I  dance  ?  she  asked 
herself.  It  was  not  in  the  spirit  of  happiness.  Her  heart 
was  not  with  Dr.  Shrapnel,  but  very  near  him,  and  heavy  as 
a  chamber  of  the  sick.  She  w^as  afraid  of  her  father's 
favourite,  imagining,  from  the  colonel's  unconcealed  opposi- 
tion to  Beauchamp,  that  he  had  designs  in  the  interests  of 
Mr.  Tuckham.  But  the  hearty  gentleman  scattered  her 
secret  terrors  by  his  bluifness  and  openness.  He  asked  her 
to  remember  that  she  had  recommended  him  to  listen  to 
Seymour  Austin,  and  he  had  done  so,  he  said.  Undoubtedly 
he  was  much  improved,  much  less  overbearing.  He  won 
her  confidence  by  praising  and  loving  her  father,  and  when 
she  alluded  to  the  wonderful  services  he  had  rendered  on  the 
Welsh  estate,  he  said  simply  that  her  father's  thanks  repaid 
him.  He  recalled  his  former  dovvnrightness  only  in  speak- 
ing of  the  case  of  Dr.  Shrapnel,  upon  which,  both  with  the 
colonel  and  with  her,  he  was  unreservedly  condemnatory  of 
Mr.  Romfrey.  Colonel  Halkett's  defence  of  the  true  knight 
and  guardian  of  the  reputation  of  ladies,  fell  to  pieces  in  the 
presence  of  Mr.  Tuckham.  He  had  seen  Dr.  Shrapnel,  on 
a  visit  to  Mr.  Lydiard,  whom  he  described  as  hanging  about 
Bevisham,  philandering  as  a  married  man  should  not, 
though  in  truth  he  might  soon  expect  to  be  released  by  the 
death  of  his  crazy  wife.  The  doctor,  he  said,  had  been 
severely  shaken  by  the  monstrous  assault  made  on  him,  and 
had  been  most  unrighteously  handled.  The  doctor  was  an 
inoffensive  man  in  his  private  life,  detestable  and  dangerous 
though  his  teachings  were.  Outside  politics  Mr.  Tuckham 
went  altogether  with  Beauchamp.  He  promised  also  that 
old  Mrs.  Beauchamp  should  be  accurately  informed  of  the 
state  of  matters  between  Captain  Beauchamp  and  Mr. 
Romfrey.  He  left  ]\Iount  Laurels  to  go  back  in  attendance 
on  the  venerable  lady,  without  once  afflicting  Cecilia  with  a 
shiver  of  well-founded  apprehension,  and  she  was  grateful 
lo  him  almost  to  friendly  affection  in  the  vanishing  of  her 


CECILIA  CONQUERED.  331 

nnjust  snspicion,  tmtil  her  father  hinted  that  there  was 
the  man  of  his  heart.  Then  she  closed  all  avenues  to  her 
own. 

A  period  of  maidenly  distress  not  previously  unknown  to 
her  ensued.  Proposals  of  marriage  were  addressed  to  her 
by  two  untitled  gentlemen,  and  by  the  Earl  of  Lockrace  : 
three  within  a  fortnight.  The  recognition  of  the  young 
heiress's  beauty  at  the  Yacht  Ball  was  accountable  for 
the  bursting  out  of  these  fires.  Her  father  would  not  have 
deplored  her  acceptance  of  the  title  of  Countess  of  Lockrace. 
In  the  matter  of  rejections,  however,  her  will  was  para- 
mount, and  he  was  on  her  side  against  relatives  when  the 
subject  was  debated  among  them.  He  called  her  attention 
to  the  fact  impressively,  telling  her  that  she  should  not  hear 
a  syllable  from  him  to  persuade  her  to  marry  :  the  em]»hasis 
of  which  struck  the  unspoken  warning  on  her  intelligence  : 
Bring  no  man  to  me  of  whom  I  do  not  approve  ! 

"Worthier  of  you,  as  I  hope  to  become,'''  Beatichamp  had 
said.  Cecilia  lit  on  that  part  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's  letter  Avhere, 
"  Fight  this  out  within  you,"  distinctly  alluded  to  the 
unholy  love.  Could  she  think  ill  of  the  man  who  thus 
advised  him  ?  She  shared  Beauchamp's  painful  feeling  for 
him  in  a  sudden  tremour  of  her  frame ;  as  it  were  through 
his  touch.  To  the  rest  of  the  letter  her  judgement  stood 
opposed,  save  when  a  sentence  here  and  there  reminded  her 
of  Captain  Baskelett's  insolent  sing-song  declamation  of  it : 
and  that  would  have  turned  sacred  writing  to  absurdity. 

Beauchamp  had  mentioned  Seymour  Austin  as  one  to 
whom  he  would  willingly  ^-rant  a  perusal  of  the  letter.  Mr. 
Austin  came  to  Mount  Laurels  about  the  close  of  the  yacht- 
ing season,  shortly  after  Colonel  Halkett  had  spent  his 
customary  days  of  SejDtember  shooting  at  Steynham. 
Beauchamp's  folly  was  the  colonel's  theme,  for  the  fellow 
had  dragged  Lord  Palmet  there,  and  driven  his  uncle  out  of 
patience.  Mr.  Romfrey's  monumental  patience  had  been 
exhausted  by  him.  The  colonel  boiled  over  with  accounts 
of  Beauchamp's  behaviour  toward  his  uncle,  and  Palmet, 
and  Baskelett,  and  Mrs.  Culling :  how  he  flew  at  and 
vrorried  everybody  who  seemed  to  him  to  have  had  a  hand 
in  the  proper  chastisement  of  that  man  Shrapnel.  That 
pestiferous  letter  of  Shrapnel's  was  animadverted  on,  of 
course;  and,  "  I  should  like  you  to  have  heard  it,  Austin," 


332  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEEE. 

the  colonel  said,  "  just  for  you  to  have  a  notion  of  the  kind 
of  universal  blow-up  those  men  are  scheming,  and  would 
hoist  us  with,  if  they  could  get  a  little  more  blasting  powder 
than  they  mill  in  their  lunatic  heads." 

ISTow  Cecilia  wished  for  Mr.  Austin's  opinion  of  Dr. 
Shrapnel ;  and  as  the  delicate  state  of  her  inclinations  made 
her  conscious  that  to  give  him  the  letter  covertly  would  be 
to  betray  them  to  him,  who  had  once,  not  knowing  it,  moved 
her  to  think  of  a  possible  great  change  in  her  life,  she  mus- 
tered courage  to  say  :  "  Captain  Beauchamp  at  my  request 
lent  me  the  letter  to  read  ;  I  have  it,  and  others  written  by 
Dr.  Shrapnel." 

Her  father  hummed  to  himself,  and  immediately  begged 
Seymoui"  Austin  not  to  waste  his  time  on  the  stuff,  though 
he  had  no  idea  that  a  perusal  of  it  could  awaken  other  than 
the  gravest  reprehension  in  so  rational  a  Tory  gentleman. 

Mr.  Austin  read  the  letter  through.  He  asked  to  see  the 
other  letters  mentioned  by  Cecilia,  and  read  them  calmly, 
without  a  fi'own  or  an  interjection.  She  sat  sketching,  her 
father  devouring  newspaper  columns. 

"  It's  the  writing  of  a  man  who  means  well,"  Mr.  Austin 
delivered  his  opinion. 

"  Why,  the  man's  an  infidel !"  Colonel  Halkett  exclaimed. 

"  There  are  numbers." 

"  They  have  the  grace  not  to  confess,  then." 

"  It's  as  w^ell  to  know  what  the  world's  made  of,  colonel. 
The  clergy  shut  their  eyes.  There's  no  treating  a  disease 
without  reading  it ;  and  if  we  are  to  acknowledge  a  '  vice,' 
as  Dr.  Shrapnel  would  say  of  the  so-called  middle-class,  it 
is  the  smirking  over  what  they  think,  or  their  not  caring  to 
think  at  all.  Too  many  time-ser\ers  rot  the  State.  I  can 
understand  the  efl'ect  of  such  writing  on  a  mind  like  Captain 
T3eauchamp's.  It  would  do  no  harm  to  our  young  men  to 
have  those  letters  read  publicly  and  lectured  on — by  com- 
petent persons.  Hi'lf  the  thinking  world  may  think  pretty 
much  the  same  on  some  points  as  Dr.  Shrapnel ;  they  ai^e 
too  wise  or  too  indolent  to  say  it :  and  of  the  other  half, 
about  a  dozen  members  would  l3e  competent  to  reply  to  him. 
He  is  the  earnest  man,  and  flies  at  politics  as  uneasy  young 
brains  fly  to  literature,  fancying  they  can  write  because  they 
can  write  with  a  pen.  He  perceives  a  bad  adjustment  of 
illings  :    which    is    correct.     He    is    honest,    and    takes    his 


CECILIA  CONQUERED.  333 

honesty  for  a  virtue  :  and  that  entitles  him  to  believe  in 
himself  :  and  that  belief  causes  him  to  see  in  all  opjDOsition 
to  him  the  wrong  he  has  perceived  in  existing  circumstances : 
and  so  in  a  dream  of  power  he  invokes  the  people :  and  as 
they  do  not  stir,  he  takes  to  prophecy.  This  is  the  round  of 
the  politics  of  impatience.  ^/The  study  of  politics  should  be 
guided  by  some  light  of  statesmanship,  otherwise  it  comes 
to  this  wild  preaching.  These  men  are  theory-tailors,  not 
politicians.  They  are  the  men  who  make  the  '  strait-waist- 
coat for  humanity.'  They  would  fix  us  to  first  principles 
like  tethered  sheep  or  hobbled  horses.  I  should  enjoy 
replying-  to  him,  if  I  had  time.  The  whole  letter  is  com- 
posed of  variations  upon  one  idea.  Still  I  must  say  the  man 
interests  me;  I  should  like  to  talk  to  him." 

Mr.  Austin  paid  no  heed  to  the  colonel's  "  Dear  me  !  dear 
me  !"  of  amazement.  He  said  of  the  style  of  the  letters, 
that  it  was  the  puffing  of  a  giant :  a  strong  Avind  rath.er 
than  speech :  and  begged  Cecilia  to  note  that  men  who 
labour  to  force  theii  dreams  on  mankind  and  turn  vapour 
into  fact,  usually  adopt  such  a  style.  Hearing  that  this 
private  letter  had  been  deliberately  read  through  by  Mr. 
Romfrey,  and  handed  by  him  to  Captain  Baskelett,  who  had 
read  it  out  in  various  places,  Mr.  Austin  said :  "  A  strange 
couple!"  He  appeared  perplexed  by  his  old  friend's  approval 
of  them.  "There  we  decidedly  diifer,"  said  he,  when  the 
case  of  Dr.  Shrapnel  was  related  by  the  colonel,  with  a 
refusal  to  condemn  Mr.  Romfrey.  He  pronounced  Mr. 
Romfrey 's  charges  against  Dr.  Shrapnel,  taken  in  conjunc- 
tion with  his  conduct,  to  be  baseless,  childish,  and  wanton. 
The  colonel  would  not  see  the  case  in  that  light ;  but  Cecilia 
did.  It  was  a  justification  of  Beauchamp  ;  and  how  could  she 
ever  have  been  blind  to  it  ? — scarcely  blind,  she  remembered, 
but  sensitively  blinking  her  eyelids  to  distract  her  sight  in 
contemplating  it,  and  to  preserve  her  repose.  As  to  Beau- 
champ's  demand  of  the  apology,  jVIr.  Austin  considered  that 
it  might  be  an  instance  of  his  want  of  knowledge  of  men, 
yet  could  not  be  called  silly,  and  to  call  it  insane  was  the 
rhetoric  of  an  adversary. 

"  I  do  call  it  insane,"  said  the  colonel. 

He  separated  himself  from  his  daughter  by  a  sharp  divi- 
Bion. 

Had  Beauchamp  appeared  at  Mount  Laurels,  Cecilia  would 


334  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

have  been  ready  to  siip}3ort  and  encourage  liim,  boldly. 
Backed  by  Mr.  Austin,  she  saw  some  good  in  Dr.  Shrapnel's 
writing,  much  in  Beaiichamp's  devotedness.  He  shone  clear 
to  her  reason,  at  last :  partly  because  her  father  in  his  oppo- 
sition to  him  did  not,  but  was  on  the  contrary  unreasonable, 
cased  in  mail,  mentally  clouded.  She  sat  with  Mr.  Austin 
and  her  father,  trying  repeatedly,  in  obedience  to  Beau- 
champ's  commands,  to  bring  the  latter  to  a  just  contempla- 
tion of  the  unhappy  case ;  behaviour  on  her  part  which 
rendered  the  colonel  inveterate. 

Beauchamp  at  this  moment  was  occupied  in  doing  secre- 
tary's work  for  Dr.  Shrapnel.  So  Cecilia  learnt  from  Mr. 
Lydiard,  who  came  to  pay  his  respects  to  Mrs.  Wardour- 
Devereux  at  IMount  Laurels.  The  pursuit  of  the  apology 
was  continued  in  letters  to  his  uncle  and  occasional  interviews 
with  him,  which  were  by  no  means  instigated  b  the  doctor, 
Mr.  Lydiard  informed  the  ladies.  He  described  Beauchamp 
as  acting  in  the  spirit  of  a  man  who  has  sworn  an  oath  to 
abandon  ever}^  pleasure  in  life  that  he  may,  as  far  as  it  lies 
in  his  power,  indemnify  his  friend  for  the  wrong  done  to  him. 

"  Such  men  are  too  terrible  for  me,"  said  ^\Irs.  Devereux. 

Cecilia  thought  the  reverse :  Not  for  me !  but  she  felt  a 
strain  upon  her  nature,  and  she  was  miserable  in  her  aliena- 
tion from  her  father.  Kissing  him  one  night,  she  laid  her 
head  on  his  breast,  and  begged  his  forgiveness.  He  em- 
braced  her  tenderly.  "  Wait,  oidy  wait ;  you  will  see  I  am 
right,"  he  said,  and  prudently  said  no  more,  and  did  not  ask 
her  to  speak. 

She  was  glad  that  she  had  sought  the  reconciliation  from 
her  heart's  natural  warmth,  on  hearing  some  time  later  that 
M.  de  Croisnel  was  dead,  and  that  Beauchamp  meditated 
starting  for  France  to  console  his  Renee.  Her  continual 
agitations  made  her  doubtful  of  her  human  feelings  :  she 
clung  to  that  instance  of  her  filial  steadfastness. 

The  day  before  Cecilia  and  her  father  left  Mount  Laurels 
for  their  season  in  Wales,  Mr.  Tuckham  and  Beauchamp 
came  together  to  the  house,  and  were  closeted  an  hour  with 
her  father.  Cecilia  sat  in  the  drawing-room,  thinking  that 
she  did  indeed  wait,  and  had  great  patience.  Beauchamp 
entered  the  room  alone.  He  looked  worn  and  thin,  of  a 
leaden  colour,  like  the  cloud  that  bears  the  bolt.  ISTews  had 
reached  him  of  the  death  of   Loi-d  Avonley  in  the  hunting. 


CECILIA  CONQUERED.  335 

field,  and  he  was  going  on  to  Steynliam  to  persuade  his  uncle 
to  accompany  him  to  Bevisham  and  wash  the  guilt  of  his 
wrong-doing  off  him  before  taking  the  title.  "  You  would  '"^ 
advise  me  not  to  go  ?"  he  said.  "I  must.  I  should  be  dis- 
honoured myself  if  I  let  a  chance  pass.  I  run  the  risk  of 
being  a  beggar  ;  I'm  all  but  one  now." 

Cecilia  faltered  :   "  Do  you  see  a  chance  ?" 

"  Hardly  more  than  an  excuse  for  trying  it,"  he  replied. 

She  gave  him  back  Dr.  Shrapnel's  letters.  "  I  have  read 
them,"  was  all  she  said.  For  he  might  have  just  returned 
from  France,  with  the  breath  of  Renee  about  him,  and  her 
pride  would  not  suffer  her  to  melt  him  in  rivalry  by  saying 
what  she  had  been  led  to  think  of  the  letters. 

Hearing  nothing  from  her,  he  silently  put  them  in  his 
pocket.  The  struggle  with  his  uncle  seemed  to  be  souring 
him  or  deadening  him. 

They  were  not  alone  for  long.  Mr.  Tuckham  presented 
himself  to  take  his  leave  of  her.  Old  Mrs.  Beauchamp  was 
dying,  and  he  had  only  come  to  Mount  Laurels  on  special 
business.     Beauchamj)  was  just  as  anxious  to  hurry  away. 

Her  father  found  her  sitting  in  the  solitude  of  a  drawing- 
room  at  midday,  pale-faced,  with  unoccupied  fingers,  not 
even  a  book  in  her  lap. 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  room  until  Cecilia,  to  say 
something,  said  :  "  Mr.  Tuckham  could  not  stay." 

"  Xo,"  ^aid  her  father  ;  "  he  could  not.  He  has  to  be  back 
as  quick  as  he  can  to  cut  his  legacy  in  halves  !" 

Cecilia  lor>ked  perplexed. 

"  I'll  speak  plainly,"  said  the  colonel.  *'  He  sees  that 
Xevil  has  ruined  himself  with  his  uncle.  The  old  lady  won't 
allow  T^evil  to  visit  her ;  in  her  condition  it  would  be  an 
excitement  beyond  her  strength  to  bear.  She  sent  Blackburn 
to  bring  Xevil  here,  and  give  him  the  option  of  stating  before 
me  whether  those  reports  about  his  misconduct  in  France 
were  true  or  not.  He  demurred  at  first :  however,  he  says 
they  are  not  true.  He  would  have  run  away  with  the  French- 
woman, and  he  v\'ould  have  fought  the  duel :  but  he  did 
neither.  Her  brother  ran  ahead  of  him  and  fought  for  him ; 
so  he  declares  :  and  she  wouldn't  run.  So  the  reports  are 
false.  We  shall  know  what  Blackburn  makes  of  the  story 
when  we  hear  of  the  legacy.  I  have  been  obliged  to  write 
word  to  Mrs.  Beauchamp  that  T  believe  ISTevil  to  have  made 


336  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

a  true  statement  of  the  facts.  But  I  distinctly  sa}^  and  so  I 
told  Blackburn,  I  don't  think  money  will  do  Nevil  Boau- 
champ  a  farthing's  worth  of  good.  Blackburn  follows  his 
own  counsel.  He  induced  the  old  lady  to  send  him ;  so  I 
suppose  he  intends  to  let  her  share  the  money  between  them. 
I  thought  better  of  him ;   I  thought  him  a  wiser  man." 

Gratitude  to  Mr.  Tuckham  on  Beauchamp's  belmlf  caused 
Cecilia  to  praise  him,  in  the  tone  of  compliments.  nThe  diffi- 
culty of  seriously  admiring  two  gentlemen  at  once  is  a 
feminine  dilemma,  with  the  maidenly  among  women. 

•■  He  has  disappointed  me,"  said  Colonel  Halkett. 

"  Would  you  have  had  him  allow  a  falsehood  to  enrich  him 
and  ruin  N'evil,  papa  ?" 

"My  dear  child,  I'm  sick  to  death  of  romantic  fellows.  I 
took  Blackburn  for  one  of  our  solid  young  men.  Why  should 
he  share  his  aunt's  fortune  ?" 

"  You  mean,  why  should  Nevil  have  money  !" 

"  Well,  I  do  mean  that.  Besides,  the  story  was  not  false 
as  far  as  his  intentions  went :  he  confessed  it,  and  I  ought 
to  have  put  it  in  a  postscript.  If  Nevil  wants  mono}-,  let 
bim  learn  to  behave  himself  like  a  gentleman  at  Steyn- 
ham." 

"  He  has  not  failed." 

"  I'll  say,  then,  behave  himself,  simply.  He  considers  it 
a  point  of  honour  to  get  his  uncle  Everard  to  go  down  on  his 
knees  to  Shrapnel.  But  he  has  no  moral  sense  where  1 
should  like  to  see  it :  none  :  he  confessed  it." 

"  What  were  his  words,  papa  ?" 

"  I  don't  remember  words.  He  runs  over  to  Fi-ance,  when- 
ever it  suits  him,  to  cai^y  on  there  .  .  .  ."  The  colonel 
ended  in  a  hum  and  buzz. 

"  Has  he  been  to  France  lately  ?"  asked  Cecilia. 

Her  breath  hung  for  the  answer,  sedately  thoagh  she  sat. 

"  The  woman's  father  is  dead,  I  hear,"  Colonel  Halkett 
remarked. 

"  But  he  has  not  been  there  ?" 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  He's  anywhere,  wherever  his  passions 
whisk  him." 

"ISTo!" 

"  I  say,  yes.  And  if  he  has  money,  we  shall  see  him  going 
skj-high  and  scattering  it  in  sparks,  not  merely  spending ;    I 


CECILIA  CONQUERED.  337 

mean  living  immorally,  infidelizing,  repnblicanizing,  scan- 
dalizing his  class  and  his  country." 

"  Oh  no !"  exclaimed  Cecilia,  rising  and  moving  to  the 
window  to  feast  her  eyes  on  driving  clouds,  in  a  strange 
exaltation  of  mind,  secretly  sure  now  that  her  idea  of  Nevil's 
having  gone  over  to  France  was  groundless,  and  feeling  that 
she  had  been  unworthy  of  him  who  strove  to  be  "  worthier 
of  her,  as  he  hoped  to  become." 

Colonel  Halkett  scoffed  at  her  "  Oh  no,"  and  called  it 
woman's  logic. 

She  CO  aid  not  restrain  herself.  "  Have  you  forgotten  Mr. 
Austin,  papa  ?  It  is  Nevil's  perfect  truthfulness  that  makes 
him  appear  worse  to  you  than  men  who  are  time-servers. 
Too  many  time-servers  rot  the  State,  Mr,  Austin  said.  Nevil 
is  not  one  of  them.  I  am  not  able  to  judge  or  speculate 
whether  he  has  a  great  brain  or  is  likely  to  distinguish  him- 
self out  of  his  profession  :  I  would  rather  he  did  not  abandon 
it :  but  Mr.  Austin  said  to  me  in  talking  of  him  .  .  .  ." 

"  That  notion  of  Austin's  of  screwing  women's  minds  up 
to  the  pitch  of  men's  !"  interjected  the  colonel  with  a  despair- 
ing flap  of  his  arm. 

"  He  said,  papa,  that  honestly  active  men  in  a  country, 
who  decline  to  piactise  hypocrisy,  show  that  the  blood  runs, 
and  are  a  sign  of  health." 

"  You  misunderstood  him,  my  dear." 

"  I  think  I  thorouglily  understood  him.  He  did  not  call 
them  wise.  He  said  they  might  be  dangerous  if  they  were 
not  met  in  debate.  But  he  said,  and  I  presume  to  think 
truly,  that  the  reason  why  they  are  decried  is,  that  it  is  too 
great  a  trouble  for  a  lazy  world  to  meet  them.  And,  he 
said,  the  reason  why  the  honest  factions  agitate  is  because 
they  encounter  sneers  until  thc}^  appear  in  force.  If  they 
were  met  earlier,  and  fairly — I  am  only  quoting  him — they 
would  not,  I  think  he  said,  or  would  hardly,  or  would  not 
generally,  fall  into  professional  agitation," 

"  Austin's  a  speculative  Tory,  I  know ;  and  that's  his 
weakness,"  observed  the  colonel.  "  But  I'm  certain  you 
misunderstood  him.  He  never  would  have  called  us  a  lazy 
people." 

"  !N^ot  in  matters  of  business  :  in  matters  of  thought." 

" My  dear  Cecilia  !     You've  got  hold  of  a  language!  .  .  .  , 

z 


338  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

a  way  of  speaking !  .  .  .  Who  set  you  thinking  on  these 
things  ?  " 

"  That  I  owe  to  N'evil  Beanchamp." 

Colonel  Halkett  indulged  in  a  turn  or  two  up  and  down 
the  room.  He  threw  open  a  window,  sniffed  the  moist  air, 
and  went  to  his  daughter  to  speak  to  her  resolutely. 

"  Between  a  Radical  and  a  Tory,  1  don't  know  where  your 
head  has  been  whirled  to,  my  dear.  Your  heart  seems  to  be 
gone  :  more  sorrow  for  us !  And  for  Nevil  Beauchamp  to 
be  pretending  to  love  you  while  carrying  on  with  this 
Frenchwoman  !" 

"  He  has  never  said  that  he  loved  me." 

The  splendour  of  her  beauty  in  humility  flashed  on  her 
father,  and  he  cried  out:  "  You  are  too  go  vl  for  any  man  on 
earth  !  We  won't  lalk  in  the  dark,  my  davling.  You  tell 
me  he  has  never,  as  they  say,  made  love  to  you  ?" 

"  Never,  papa.'.' 

"  Well,  that  proves  the  French  story.  At  any  rate,  he's  a 
man  of  honour.     But  you  love  him  ?" 

"  The  French  story  is  untrue,  papa." 

Cecilia  stood  in  a  blush  like  the  burning  cloud  of  the 
sunset. 

"  Tell  me  frankly  :  I'm  your  father,  your  old  dada,  your 
friend,  my  dear  girl !  do  you  think  the  man  cares  for  you, 
loves  you  ?" 

She  replied:  "I  know,  papa,  the  French  story  is  untrue." 

"  But  when  I  tell  you,  silly  woman,  he  confessed  it  to  me 
out  of  his  own  mouth !" 

"It  is  not  true  now." 

"It's  not  going  on,  you  mean  ?     How  do  you  know  ?'* 

"  I  know." 

"Has  he  been  swearing  it." 

"  He  has  not  spoken  of  it  to  me." 

"  Here  I  am  in  a  woman's  web  !"  cried  the  colonel.  "  Is 
it  your  instinct  tells  you  it's  not  true  ?  or  what  ?  what  ? 
Fou  have  not  denied  that  you  love  the  man." 

"  I  know  he  is  not  immoral." 

"  There  you  shoot  again !  Haven't  you  a  yes  or  a  no  for 
3''our  father  ?" 

Cecilia  cast  her  arms  round  his  neck,  and  sobbed. 

She  could  not  bring  it  to  her  lips  to  say  (she  would  have 
shunned  the  hearing)  that  her  defence  of  Beauchamp,  which 


CECILIA-  CONQUERED.  339 

was  a  shadowed  avowal  of  the  state  of  her  heart,  was  based 
on  his  desire  to  read  to  her  the  conclusion  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's 
letter  touching  a  passion  to  be  overcome  ;  necessarily  there- 
fore a  passion  that  was  vanquished,  and  the  fullest  and 
bravest  explanation  of  his  shifting  treatment  of  her :  nor 
would  she  condescend  to  urge  that  her  lover  would  have 
said  he  loved  her  when  they  were  at  Steynham,  but  for  the 
misery  and  despair  of  a  soul  too  noble  to  be  diverted  from 
his  grief  and  sense  of  duty,  and,  as  she  believed,  unwilling 
to  speak  to  win  her  while  his  material  fortune  was  in 
jeopardy. 

The  colonel  cherished  her  on  his  breast,  with  one  hand 
regularly  patting  her  shoulder  :  a  form  of  consolation  that 
cures  the  disposition  to  sob  as  quickly  as  would  the  drip  of 
water. 

Cecilia  looked  up  into  his  eyes,  and  said :  "  "We  will  not 
be  parted,  papa,  ever." 

The  colonel  said  absently  :  "  No  ;"  and,  surprised  at  him- 
self, added  :  "  no,  certainly  not.  How  can  we  be  parted  ? 
You  won't  run  away  from  me  ?  ISTo,  you  know  too  well  T 
can't  resist  you.  I  appeal  to  your  judgement,  and  I  must 
accept  what  you  decide.  But  he  is  immoral.  I  repeat  that 
He  has  no  roots.  We  shall  discover  it  before  it's  too  late,  I 
hope." 

Cecilia  gazed  away,  breathing  through  tremulous  dilating 
nostrils. 

"  One  night  after  dinner  at  Steynham,"  pursued  the 
colonel,  "  Nevil  Avas  rattling  against  the  Press,  with  Stukely 
Culbrett  to  prime  him  :  and  he  said  editors  of  papers  were 
growing  to  be  like  priests,  and  as  timid  as  priests,  and 
arrogant :  and  for  one  thing,  it  was  because  they  supposed 
themselves  to  be  guardians  of  the  national  morality.  I  forget 
exactly  what  the  matter  was  :  but  he  sneered  at  priests  and 
morality." 

A  smile  wove  round  Cecilia's  lips,  and  in  her  towering 
superiority  to  one  who  talked  nonsense,  she  slipped  out  of 
maiden  shame  and  said  :  "  Attack  ^N^evil  for  his  political 
heresies  and  his  wrath  with  the  Press  for  not  printing  him. 
The  rest  concerns  his  honour,  whore  lie  is  quite  safe,  and  all 
are  who  trust  him." 

"  If  you  find  out  you're  wrong  ?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

z2 


340  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  But  if  yoTi  find  out  you're  Avrong  about  him,"  lier  father 
reiterated  piteously,  "  you  won't  tear  me  to  strips  to  have 
him  in  spite  of  it  ?" 

"  No,  papa,  not  I.     I  will  not." 

"Well,  that's  something  for  me  to  hold  fast  to,"  said 
Colonel  Halkett,  sighing. 


CHAPTER  XXXVin. 

LORD  AVONLEY. 


Mr.  Everard  Romfrey  was  now  Lord  Avouley,  mounted 
on  his  direct  heirship  and  riding  hard  at  the  earldom.  His 
elevation  occurred  at  a  period  of  life  that  would  have  been 
a  season  of  decay  with  most  men  ;  but  the  prolonged  and 
lusty  Autumn  of  the  veteran  took  new  fires  from  a  tangible 
object  to  live  for.  His  brother  Craven's  death  had  slightly 
stupefied,  and  it  had  grieved  him  :  it  seemed  to  him  pecu- 
liarly pathetic  ;  for  as  he  never  calculated  on  the  happening 
of  mortal  accidents  to  men  of  sound  constitution,  the  cir- 
cumstance imparted  a  curious  shake  to  his  own  solidity.  It 
was  like  the  quaking  of  earth,  which  tries  the  balance  of 
the  strongest.  If  he  had  not  been  raised  to  so  splendid  a 
survey  of  the  actual  world,  he  might  have  been  led  to  think 
of  the  imaginary,  whore  perchance  a  man  may  meet  his  old 
dogs  and  a  few  other  favourites,  in  a  dim  perpetual  twilight. 
Thither  at  all  events  Craven  had  gone,  and  good  night  to 
him !  The  earl  was  a  rapidly  lapsing  invalid.  There 
could  be  no  doubt  that  Everard  was  to  be  the  head  of  his 
House. 

Outwardly  he  was  the  same  tolerant  gentleman  who  put 
aside  the  poor  fools  of  the  world  to  walk  undisturbed  by 
them  in  the  paths  he  had  chosen  :  in  this  aspect  he  knew 
himself:  nor  was  the  change  so  gi'eat  within  him  as  to 
make  him  cognizant  of  a  change.  It  was  only  a  secret  turn 
in  the  bent  of  the  mind,  imperceptible  as  the  touch  of  the 
cunning  artist's  brush  on  a  finished  portrait,  which  will 
alter  the  expression  without  discomposing  a  feature,  so  that 


LORD  AVONLET.  341 

you  cannot  say  it  is  anotlier  face,  yet  it  is  not  the  former 
one.  His  habits  were  invariable,  as  were  his  meditations. 
He  thought  less  of  Romfrey  Castle  than  of  his  dogs  and 
his  devices  for  trapping  vermin  ;  his  interest  in  birds  and 
bea?vts  and  herbs,  "  what  ninnies  call  Nature  in  books,"  to 
quote  him,  was  undiminished;  imagination  he  had  none  to 
clap  wings  to  his  hefid  and  be  off  with  it.  He  betrayed  as 
little  as  he  felt  that  the  coming  Earl  of  Romfrey  was 
different  fi^om  the  cadet  of  the  family. 

A  novel  sharpness  in  the  "  Stop  that,"  with  which  he 
crushed  Beauchamp's  affectedly  gentle  and  unusually  round- 
about opening  of  the  vexed  Shrapnel  question,  rang  like  a 
shot  in  the  room  at  Steynham,  and  breathed  a  different 
spirit  from  his  customary  easy  pugnacity  that  welcomed 
and  lured  on  an  adversary  to  wild  outhitting.  Some  sor- 
ro^yful  preoccupation  is,  however,  to  be  expected  in  the  man 
who  has  lost  a  brother,  and  some  degTee  of  irritability  at 
the  intrusion  of  past  disputes.  He  chose  to  repeat  a  similar 
brief  forbidding  of  the  subject  before  they  started  together 
for  the  scene  of  the  accident  and  Romfrey  Castle.  No 
notice  was  taken  of  "Beauchamp's  remark,  that  he  consented 
to  go  though  his  duty  lay  elsewhere.  Beauchamp  had  not 
the  faculty  of  reading  inside  men.  or  he  would  have  appre- 
hended that  his  uncle  was  engaged  in  silently  heaping 
aggi-avations  to  shoot  forth  one  fine  day  a  thundering  and 
astonishing  counterstroke. 

He  should  have  known  his  uncle  Everard  better. 

In  this  respect  he  seemed  to  have  no  memory.  But  who 
has  much  that  has  given  up  his  brains  for  a  lodging  to  a 
single  idea  ?  It  is  at  once  a  devouring  dragon,  and  an 
intractable  steam-force ;  it  is  a  t^-rant  that  has  eaten  up  a 
senate,  and  a  prophet  with  a  message.  Inspired  of  soli- 
tariness and  gigantic  size  it  claims  divine  origin.  The 
w^orld  can  have  no  peace  for  it. 

Cecilia  had  not  pleased  him  ;  none  had.  He  did  not  bear 
in  mind  that  the  sight  of  Dr.  Shrapnel  sick  and  weak, 
which  constantly  reanimated  his  feelings  of  pity  and  of 
wrath,  was  not  given  to  the  others  of  whom  he  demanded  a 
corresponding  energy  of  just  indignation  and  sympathy 
The  sense  that  he  was  left  unaided  to  the  task  of  bending 
his  tough  uncle,  combined  with  his  appreciation  of  the 
righteousness  of  the  task  to  embitter  him  and  set  him  on  a 


342  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

pedestal,  from  which  he  descended  at  every  sign  of  an 
opportunity  for  striking,  and  to  which  he  retired  continually 
baffled  and  wrathful,  in  isolation. 

Then  ensued  the  dreadful  division  in  his  conception  of  his 
powers :  for  he  who  alone  saw  the  just  and  right  thing  to 
do,  was  incapable  of  compelling  it  to  be  done.  Lay  on  to  his 
uncle  as  he  would,  that  wrestler  shook  him  off.  And  here  was 
one  man  whom  he  could  not  move!     How  move  a  nation? 

There  came  on  him  a  thirst  for  the  haranguing  of  crowds. 
They  agree  with  3^ou  or  they  disagree ;  exciting  you  to 
activity  in  either  case.  They  do  not  interpose  cold  Tory 
exclusiveness  and  inaccessibility.  You  have  them  in  the 
rough  ;  you  have  nature  in  them,  and  all  that  is  hopeful  in 
nature.  You  drive  at,  over,  and  through  them,  for  their 
good  ;  you  plough  them.  You  sow  them  too.  Some  of  them 
pei-ceive  that  it  is  for  their  good,  and  what  if  they  be  a 
minority  ?  Ghastly  as  a  minority  is  in  an  Election,  in  a  life- 
long straggle  it  is  refreshing  and  encouraging.  The  young 
world  and  its  triumph  is  with  the  minority.  O  to  be  speak- 
ing! Condemned  to  silence  beside  his  uncle  Beauchamp 
chafed  for  a  loosed  tongue  and  an  audience  tossing  like  the 
well-whipped  ocean,  or  open  as  the  smooth  sea-surface  to  the 
marks  of  the  breeze.  Let  them  be  hostile  or  amicable,  he 
wanted  an  audience  as  hotly  as  the  humped  Richard  a 
horse. 

At  Romfrey  Castle  he  fell  upon  an  audience  that  became 
transformed  into  a  swarm  of  chatterers,  advisers,  and 
reproveis  the  instant  his  lips  Avere parted.  The  ladies  of  the 
family  declared  his  pursuit  of  the  Apology  to  be  worse  and 
vainer  than  his  politics.  The  gentlemen  said  the  same,  but 
they  were  not  so  outspoken  to  him  personally^  and  indulged 
in  asides,  with  quotations  of  some  of  his  uncle  Everard's 
recent  observations  concerning  him  :  as  for  example,  "  Poli- 
tically he's  a  mad  hai-lequin  jumping  his  tights  and  spangles 
when  nobody  asks  him  to  jump  ;  and  in  private  life  he's  a 
mad  dentist  poking  his  tongs  at  my  sound  tooth  :"  a  highly 
ludicrous  image  of  the  persistent  fellow,  and  a  reminder  of 
situations  in  Moliere,  as  it  was  acted  by  Cecil  Baskelett  and 
Lord  Welshpool.  Beauchamp  had  to  a  certain  extent 
restored  himself  to  favour  with  his  uncle  Everard  by  offer- 
ing a  fair  suggestion  on  the  fatal  field  to  account  for  the 
accident,    after   the    latter  had     taken    measurements    and 


LOED  AVONLEY.  343 

exairiined  the  place  in  perplexity.  His  elucidation  of  the 
puzzle  was  referred  to  by  Lord  Avonley  at  Romfrey,  and 
finally  accepted  as  possible :  and  this  from  a  wiseacre  who 
went  quacking  about  the  county,  expecting  to  upset  the 
order  of  things  in  England  !  Such  a  mixing  of  sense  and 
nonsense  in  a  fellow's  noddle  was  never  before  met  with, 
Lord  Avonley  said.  Cecil  took  the  hint.  He  had  been 
unworried  by  Beauchamp  :  Di .  Shrapnel  had  not  been  men- 
tioned :  and  it  delighted  Cecil  to  let  it  be  known  that  he 
thought  old  Xevil  had  some  good  notions,  particularly  as  to 
the  duties  of  the  aristocracy — that  first  war-cry  of  his  when 
a  midshipman.  News  of  another  fatal  accident  in  the  hunt- 
ing-field confirmed  Cecil's  higher  opinion  of  his  cousin.  On 
the  day  of  Craven's  funeral  they  heard  at  Romfrey  that 
Mr.  Wardour-Devereux  had  been  killed  by  a  fall  from  his 
horse.  Two  English  gentlemen  despatched  by  the  same 
agency  within  a  fortnight !  "  He  smoked,"  Lord  Avonley 
said  of  the  second  departure,  to  allay  some  perturba- 
tion in  the  bosoms  of  the  ladies  who  had  ceased  to  ride, 
b^  accounting  for  this  particular  mishap  in  the  most  re- 
assuring fashion.  Cecil's  immediate  reflection  was  that  the 
unfortunate  smoker  had  left  a  rich  widow.  Far  behind  in 
the  race  for  Miss  Halkett,  and  uncertain  of  a  settled  advan- 
tage in  his  other  rivalry  with  Beauchamp,  he  fixed  his  mind 
on  the  widow,  and  as  Beauchamp  did  not  stand  in  his  way, 
but  on  the  contrary  might  help  him — for  she,  like  the 
generality  of  women,  admired  Nevil  Beauchamp  in  spite  of 
her  feminine  good  sense  and  conservatism — Cecil  began  to 
regard  the  man  he  felt  less  opposed  to  with  some  recognition 
of  his  merits.  The  two  nephews  accompanied  Lord  Avonley 
to  London,  and  slept  at  his  town-house.  They  breakfasted 
together  the  next  morning  on  friendly  terms.  Half  an  hour 
afterward  there  was  an  explosion  ;  uncle  and  nephews  were 
scattered  fragments  :  and  if  Cecil  was  the  first  to  return  to 
cohesion  with  his  lord  and  chief,  it  was,  he  protested 
energetically,  common  policy  in  a  man  in  his  position 
to  do  so  :  all  that  he  looked  for  being  a  decent  pension 
and  a  share  in  the  use  of  the  town-house.  Old  Nevil,  he 
related,  began  cross-examining  him  and  entangling  him  with 
the  cunning  of  the  deuce,  in  my  lord's  presence,  and  having 
got  him  to  make  an  admission,  old  IS'evil  flung  it  at  the 
baron,  and  even  crossed  him  nnd  stood  before  him  when  he 


344  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

was  walking  out  of  the  room.  A  furious  wrangle  took  place. 
Nevil  and  tlie  baron  gave  it  to  one  another  unmercifully. 
The  end  of  it  was  that  all  three  flew  apart,  for  Cecil  con- 
fessed to  having  a  tem])er,  and  in  contempt  of  him  for  the 
admission  wrung  out  of  him,  Lord  Avonley  had  pricked  it. 
My  lord  went  down  to  Steynham,  Beauchamp  to  Holdes- 
bury,  and  Captain  Brskelett  to  his  quarters  ;  whence  in  a 
few  days  he  repaired  penitently  to  my  lord — the  most  plac- 
able of  men  when  a  full  submission  was  offered  to  him. 

BeauchamjD  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  He  wrote  a  letter  to 
Steynham  in  the  form  of  an  ultimatum. 

This  egregious  letter  was  handed  to  Rosamund  for  a  proof  of 
her  darling's  lunacy.  She  in  conversation  with  Stukely  Cul- 
brett  unhesitatingly  accused  Cecil  of  plotting  his  cousin's  ruin. 

Mr.  Culbrett  thought  it  possible  that  Cecil  had  been  a 
little  more  than  humorous  in  the  part  he  had  played  in  the 
dispute,  and  spoke  to  him. 

Then  it  came  out  that  Lord  Avonley  had  also  delivered 
an  ultimatum  to  Beauchamp. 

Time  enough  had  gone  by  for  Cecil  to  forget  his  ruffling, 
and  relish  the  baron's  grandly  comic  spirit  in  appropriating 
that  big  wori  Apology,  and  demanding  it  from  ]3eauchanip 
on  behalf  of  the  lady  ruling  his  housoliold.  What  could  be 
funnier  than  the  knocking  of  Beauchamp's  blunderbuss  out 
of  his  hands,  and  pointing  the  muzzle  at  him  ! 

Cecil  dramatized  the  fun  to  amuse  Mr.  Culbrett.  Ap- 
parently Beauchamp  had  been  staggei-ed  on  hearing  himself 
asked  for  the  definite  article  he  claimed.  He  had  made  a 
point  of  speaking  of  tJie  Apology.  Lord  Avonley  did  like- 
wise. And  each  professed  to  exact  it  for  a  deeply  aggrieved 
person  :  each  put  it  on  the  gi'ound  that  it  involved  the  other's 
rightful  ownership  of  the  title  of  genrleman. 

"  '  An  apology  to  the  amiable  and  virtuous  Mistress  Cul- 
ling?' says  old  N'evil :  '  an  apology  ?  what  for  ?' — '  For  un- 
becoming and  insolent  behaviour,'  says  my  lord." 

"  I  am  that  lady's  friend,"  Stukely  warned  Captain  Baske- 
lett.     "  Don't  let  us  have  a  third  apology  in  the  field." 

"  Perfectly  true  ;  you  are  her  friend,  and  you  know  what 
a  friend  of  mine  she  is,"  rejoined  Cecil.  "  I  could  swear 
'  that  lady'  flings  the  whole  afPair  at  me.  I  give  you  my 
word,  old  Il^evil  and  I  were  on  a  capital  footing  before  he 
and  the   baron  broke  up.     T  praised   him  for  tickling   the 


LORD  AVONLEY.  345 

aristocracy.  I  backed  him  heartily ;  I  do  now ;  I'll  do  it  in 
Parliament.  I  know  a  case  of  a  noble  lord,  a  General  in  the 
army,  and  he  received  an  intimation  that  he  might  as  well 
attend  the  Prussian  cavalry  manoeuvres  last  Autumn  on  the 
Lower  Rhine  or  in  Silesia — no  matter  where.  He  couldn't 
go  :  he  nas  engaged  to  shoot  bii^ds  !  I  give  you  my  word. 
Now  there  I  see  old  Nevil's  right.  It's  as  well  we  should 
know  something  about  the  Prussian  and  Austrian  cavalry, 
and  if  our  aristocracy  won't  go  abroad  to  study  cavalry,  who 
is  to  ?  no  class  in  the  kingdom  understands  horses  as  they 
do.  My  opinion  is,  they're  asleep.  Xevil  should  have  stuck 
to  that,  instead  of  trying  to  galvanize  the  country  and  turn- 
ing against  his  class.  But  fancy  old  Xevil  asked  for  the 
Apology!  It  petrified  him.  '  I've  told  her  nothing  but  the 
truth,'  says  Nevil.  '  Telling  the  truth  to  women  is  an  imper- 
tinence,' says  my  lord.  Nevil  swore  he'd  have  a  revolution 
in  the  country  before  he  apologized." 

Mr.  Culbrett  smiled  at  the  absurdity  of  the  change  of 
positions  between  Beauchamp  and  his  uncle  Everard,  which 
reminded  him  somewhat  of  the  old  story  of  the  highwayman 
innkeeper  and  the  market  farmer  who  had  been  thoughtful 
enough  to  recharge  his  pistols  after  quitting  the  inn  at  mid- 
night, A  practical  tu  quoque  is  astonishingly  laughable, 
and  backed  by  a  high  figure  and  manner  it  had  the  flavoui' 
of  triumphant  repartee.  Lord  Avonley  did  not  speak  of  it 
as  a  retort  upon  Nevil,  though  he  reiterated  the  word 
Apology  amusingly.  He  put  it  as  due  to  the  lady  governing 
his  household  ;  and  his  ultimatum  was,  that  the  Apology 
should  be  delivered  in  terms  to  satisfy  /lim  within  three 
months  of  the  date  of  the  demand  for  it :  otherwise  blank  ; 
but  the  shadowy  index  pointed  to  the  destitution  of  Xevil 
Beauchamp. 

!N"o  stroke  of  retributive  misfortune  could  have  been 
sevei^er  to  Rosamund  than  to  be  thrust  forward  as  the  object 
of  humiliation  for  the  man  she  loved.  She  saw  at  a  glance 
how  much  more  likely  it  was  (remote  as  the  possibility 
appeared)  that  her  lord  would  perform  the  act  of  penitence 
than  her  beloved  Nevil.  And  she  had  no  occasion  to  ask 
herself  why.  Lord  Avonley  had  done  wrong,  and  Xevii  had 
not.  It  was  inconceivable  that  Xevil  should  apologize  to  her. 
It  was  horrible  to  picture  the  act  in  her  mind.  She  was  a  very 
rational  woman,  quite  a  woman  of  the  world,  yet  such  was 


346  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEEB. 

her  situation  between  tliese  two  men  tliat  tlie  child isli  tale 
of  a  close  and  consecutive  punishment  for  sins,  down  to  our 
little  naughtinesses  and  naturalnesses,  enslaved  her  intelli- 
gence, and  amazed  her  wdth  the  example  made  of  her,  as  it 
were  to  prove  the  tale  true  of  our  being  surely  hauled  back 
like  domestic  animals  learning  the  habits  of  good  society, 
to  the  rueful  contemplation  of  certain  of  our  deeds,  however 
wildly  we  appeal  to  nature  to  stand  up  for  them. 

But  is  it  so  with  all  of  us  ?  No,  thought  Rosamund, 
sinking  dejectedly  from  a  recognition  of  the  heavenliness  of 
the  justice  which  lashed  her  and  ISTevil,  and  did  not  scourge 
Cecil  Baskelett.  That  fine  eye  for  celestially-directed  con- 
sequences is  ever  haunted  by  shadows  of  unfaith  likely  to 
obscure  it  com])letely  w^hen  chastisement  is  not  seen  to  fall 
on  the  person  whose  wickedness  is  evident  to  us.  It  has 
been  established  that  we  do  not  wax  diviner  by  dragging 
down  the  Gods  to  our  level. 

Rosamund  knew  Lord  Avonley  too  well  to  harass  him 
Avith  fuitlier  petitions  and  explanations.  Equally  vain  w^as 
it  to  attempt  to  persuade  Beauchamp.  He  made  use  of  the 
house  in  London,  where  he  met  his  uncle  occasionally,  and 
he  called  at  Steynham  for  money,  that  he  could  have 
obtained  upon  the  one  condition,  which  was  no  sooner  men- 
tioned than  fieiy  words  flew  in  the  room,  and  the  two 
separated.  The  leaden  look  in  Beauchamp,  noticed  by 
Cecilia  Halkett  in  their  latest  interview,  was  deepening, 
and  was  of  itself  a  displeasure  to  Lord  Avonley,  wlio  liked 
flourishing  faces,  and  said  :  "  That  fellow's  getting  tlie  look 
of  a  sweating  smith :"  presumably  in  the  act  of  heating  his 
poker  at  the  furnace  to  stir  the  country. 

It  now  became  an  offence  to  him  that  Beauchamp  should 
continue  doing  this  in  the  speeches  and  lectures  he  was 
I'c ported  to  be  delivering ;  he  stamped  his  foot  at  the  sight 
of  his  nephew's  name  in  the  daily  journals ;  a  novel  senti- 
ment of  social  indignation  was  expressed  by  his  crying  out, 
at  the  next  request  for  money  :  "  Money  to  prime  you  to 
turn  the  country  into  a  rat-hole  ?  Xot  a  square  inch  of 
Pennsylvanian  paper-bonds !  "What  right  have  you  to  be 
lecturing  and  oiationing  ?  You've  no  knowledge.  All 
3"0u've  got  is  your  instincts,  and  that  yon  show  in  your 
readiness  to  exhibit  them  like  a  monkey.  Yon  ought  to  be 
turned  inside  out  on  your  own  stage.     You've  lumped  your 


iORD  AVONLEY.  347 

brains  on  a  point  or  two  about  Land,  and  Commonland,  and 
the  Suffrage,  and  von  pound  away  upon  them,  as  if  you  had 
the  key  of  the  difficulty.  It's  the  Scotchman's  metaphysics; 
you  know  nothing  clear,  and  your  working-classes  know 
nothing  at  all ;  and  you  blow  them  with  wind  like  an  oyer- 
stuffed  cow.  What  you're  driying  at  is  to  get  hob-nail 
boots  to  dance  on  our  heads.  Stukely  says  you  should  be 
off  oyer  to  Ireland.  There  you'd  swim  in  your  element,  and 
haye  speechifying  from  instinct,  and  howling  and  pummelling 
too,  enough  to  last  you  out.  I'll  hand  you  money  for  that 
expedition.  You're  one  aboye  the  number  wanted  here. 
You'ye  a  look  of  bad  powder  fit  only  to  flash  in  the  pan.  I 
sayed  you  from  the  post  of  public  donkey,  by  keeping  you 
out  of  Parliament.  You're  braying  and  kicking  your  worst 
for  it  still  at  these  meetings  of  yours.  A  nayal  officer  preach- 
ing about  Republicanism  and  parcelling  out  the  Land !" 

Beauchamp  replied  quietly,  "  The  lectures  I  read  are  Dr. 
Shrapnel's.  When  I  speak  I  have  his  knowledge  to  back 
my  deficiencies.  He  is  too  ill  to  work,  and  I  consider  it  my 
duty  to  do  as  much  of  his  work  as  I  can  undertake." 

"  Ha  !  You're  the  old  infidel's  Amen  clerk.  It  would 
rather  astonish  orthodox  congregations  to  see  clerks  in  our 
churches  getting  into  the  pulpit  to  read  the  sermon  for  sick 
clergymen,"  said  Lord  Ayonley.  His  countenance  furrowed. 
"I'll  pay  that  bill,"  he  added. 

"  Pay  down  half  a  million  !"  thundered  Beauchamp  ;  and 
drop])ing  his  yoice,  "  or  go  to  him." 

"  You  remind  me,"  his  uncle  obseryed.  "  I  recommend 
you  to  ring  that  bell,  and  haye  Mrs.  Culling  here." 

"  If  she  comes  she  will  hear  what  I  think  of  her." 

"  Then,  out  of  the  house  !" 

"  Yery  well,  sir.    You  decline  to  supply  me  with  money?" 

"I  do." 

**  I  must  haye  it." 

"  I  dare  say.  Money's  a  chain-cable  for  holding  men  to 
their  senses." 

"  I  ask  you,  my  lord,  how  I  am  to  carry  on  Holdesbury  ?" 

"  Giye  it  up." 

**  I  shall  haye  to,"  said  Beauchamp,  striving  to  be  prudent. 

"  There  isn't  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  his  uncle,  upon  a  series 
of  nods  diminishing  in  their  depth  until  his  hracl  assumed  a 
droll  interrogative  fixitv.  with  an  air  of  '  What  next  ?' 


348  BBAUCHAMP'S  CAESiia 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

BETWEEN  BEAUCHAMP  AND  CECILIA. 

Beauchamp  quitted  the  house  without  answenng  as  to 
what  next,  and  without  seeing  Rosamund. 

In  the  matter  of  money,  as  of  his  physical  health,  he 
wanted  to  do  too  much  at  once ;  he  had  spent  largely  of 
both  in  his  efforts  to  repair  the  injury  done  to  Dr.  Shrapnel. 
He  was  overworked,  anxious,  restless,  craving  for  a  holiday 
somewhere — in  France  possibly ;  he  was  all  but  leaping  on 
board  the  boat  at  times,  and,  unwilling  to  leave  his  dear  old 
friend  who  clung  to  him,  he  stayed,  keeping  his  impulses 
below  the  tide-mark  which  leads  to  action,  but  where  they 
do  not  yield  peace  of  spirit.  The  tone  of  Renee's  letters 
filled  him  with  misgivings.  She  wrote  word  that  she  had 
seen  M.  d'Henriel  for  the  first  time  since  his  return  from 
Italy,  and  he  was  much  changed,  and  inclined  to  thank 
Roland  for  the  lesson  he  had  received  from  him  at  the 
sword's  point.  And  next  she  urged  Beancliamp  to  marry, 
so  that  he  and  she  might  meet,  as  if  she  felt  a  necessity  for 
it.  "  I  shall  love  your  wife  ;  teach  her  to  think  amiably  of 
me,"  she  said.  And  her  letter  contained  womanly  sympathy 
for  him  in  his  battle  with  his  uncle.  Beauchamp  thought  of 
his  experiences  of  Cecilia's  comparative  coldness.  He  replied 
that  there  was  no  prospect  of  his  marrying;  he  wished  there 
were  one  of  meeting!  He  forbore  from  writing  too  fervently, 
but  he  alluded  to  happy  days  in  Normandy,  and  proposed  to 
renew  them  if  she  would  say  she  had  need  of  him.  He 
entreated  her  to  deal  with  him  frankly;  he  reminded  her 
that  she  must  constantly  look  to  him,  as  she  had  vowed  she 
would,  when  in  any  kind  of  trouble ;  and  he  declaimed  to  her 
that  he  was  unchanged.  He  meant,  of  an  unchanged  dis- 
position to  shield  and  serve  her;  but  the  review  of  her 
situation,  and  his  knowledge  of  her  quick  blood,  wrought 
him  to  some  jealous  lover's  throbs,  which  led  him  to  impress 
his  unchangeableness  upon  her,  to  bind  her  to  that  standard. 

She  declined  his  visit :  not  now  ;  "  not  yet :"  and  for  that 
he  presumed  to  chide  her,  half- sincerely.  As  far  as  he  knew 
he  stood   against  everybody  save  his  old  friend  and  Renee  : 


BETWEEN  BEAtJCHAMP  AND  CECILIA.  ]^'^^^^ZAQ 

and  she  cei'tainlj  would  have  refreshed  his  heart  for  a  day. 
In  writing,  however,  he  had  an  ominous  vision  of  the  morrow 
to  the  day  ;  and,  both  for  her  sake  and  his  own.  he  was  not 
unrejoieed  to  hear  that  she  was  engaged  day  and  night  in 
nursing  her  husband.  Pursuing  his  vision  of  the  morrow  of 
an  unreproachf  ul  day  with  Renee,  the  madness  of  taking  her 
to  himself,  should  she  surrender  at  last  to  a  third  persuasion, 
struck  him  sharply,  now  that  he  and  his  uncle  were  foot  to 
foot  in  downright  conflict,  and  money  was  the  question.  He  , 
had  not  much  remaining  of  his  inheritance — about  fifteen 
hundred  pounds.  He  would  have  to  vacate  Holdesbury  and 
his  uncle's  town-house  in  a  month.  Let  his  passion  be  never 
so  desperate,  for  a  beggared  man  to  think  of  running  away 
with  a  wife,  or  of  niari-ying  one,  the  folly  is  as  big  as  the 
worldly  offence :  no  justification  is  to  be  imagined.  I^ay, 
and  there  is  no  justification  for  the  breach  of  a  moral  law. 
Ueauchamp  owned  it,  and  felt  that  Renee's  resistance  to  him 
in  Xormandy  placed  her  above  him.  He  remembered  a 
saying  of  his  moralist :  "  We  who  interpret  things  heavenly 
by  things  earthly  must  not  hope  to  juggle  with  them  for  oui 
pleasures,  and  can  look  to  no  absolution  of  evil  acts."  The 
school  was  a  hard  one.  It  denied  him  holidays  ;  it  cut  him 
off  from  dieams.  [t  ran  him  in  heavy  harness  on  a  rough 
highroad,  allowing  no  turnings  to  right  or  left,  no  wayside 
cro})pings  ;  with  the  simple  permission  to  him  that  he  should 
*daily  get  thoroughly  tired.  And  what  was  it  Jenny  Denham 
had  said  on  the  election  day  ?  "  Does  incessant  battling  keep 
the  intellect  clear  ?" 

His  mind  was  clear  enough  to  put  the  case  that,  either  he 
beheld  a  tremendous  magnification  of  things,  or  else  that 
other  men  did  not  attach  common  importance  to  them ;  and 
he  decided  that  the  latter  was  the  fact. 

An  incessant  struggle  of  one  man  with  the  world,  which -r^ 
position  usually  ranks  his  relatives  against  him,  does  not  j 
conduce  to  soundness  of  judgement.  He  may  nevertheless 
be  right  in  considering  that  he  is  right  in  the  main.  The 
world  in  motion  is  not  so  wise  that  it  can  pretend  to  silence 
the  outcry  of  an  ordinarily  generous  heart  even — the  very 
infant  of  antagonism  to  its  methods  and  establishments.  It 
is  not  so  difficult  to  be  right  against  the  world  when  the 
heart  is  really  active ;  but  the  world  is  our  book  of  humanity, 
and  before  insisting  that  Tiis  handwriting  shall  occupy  the 


350 

next  blank  page  of  it,  the  noble  rebel  is  bound  for  tlie  sake 
of  his  aim  to  ask  himself  how  much  of  a  giant  he  is,  lest  he 
fall  like  a  blot  on  the  page,  instead  of  inscribing  intelligible 
characters  there. 

Moreover,  his  relatives  are  present  to  assure  him  that  he 
did  not  jump  out  of  Jupiter's  head  or  come  of  the  doctor. 
They  hang  on  him  like  an  ill-conditioned  prickly  garment ; 
and  if  he  complains  of  the  irritation  they  cause  him,  they 
one  and  all  denounce  his  iri-itable  skin. 

Fretted  by  his  relatives  he  cannot  be  much  of  a  giant. 

Beauchamp  looked  from  Dr.  Shrapnel  in  his  invalid's 
chair  to  his  uncle  Everard  breathing  robustly,  and  mixed 
his  uncle's  errors  with  those  of  the  world  which  honoured 
and  upheld  him.  His  remainder  of  equability  departed ; 
his  impatience  increased.  His  appetite  for  w^ork  at  Dr. 
Shrapnel's  writing-desk  w^as  voracious.  He  was  ready  for 
any  labour,  the  transcribing  of  ])apers,  writing  from  dicta- 
tion, w-hatsoever  was  of  service  to  Lord  Avonley's  victim : 
and  he  was  not  like  the  Spai-tan  boy  with  the  wolf  at  his 
vitals;  he  l)eti'ayed  it  in  the  hue  his  uncle  Everard  detested, 
in  a  visible  nervousness,  and  indulgence  in  fits  of  scorn. 
Sharp  epigi-ams  and  notes  of  irony  provoked  his  laughter 
more  than  fun.  He  seemed  to  acquiesce  in  some  of  the  cur- 
rent contemporary  despair  of  our  immovable  P]ngland, 
though  he  winced  at  a  satire  on  his  country,  and  attempted 
to  show  that  the  dull  dominant  class  of  money-makers  was 
the  ruin  of  her.  Wherever  he  stood  to  repre;ient  Dr. 
Shrapnel,  as  against  Mr.  Grancey  Lesjjel  on  account  of  the 
Itchincope  encroachments,  he  left  a  sting  that  spread  the 
rumour  of  his  having  become  not  only  a  black  torch  of 
Radicalism — our  modern  provincial  estate-holders  and  their 
wives  bestow  that  reputation  lightly — but  a  gentleman  with 
the  polish  scratched  off  him  in  parts.  And  he,  though  indi- 
vidually he  did  not  understand  how  there  was  to  be  game 
in  the  land  if  game-preserving  w^as  abolished,  signed  his 
name  E.  C.  S.  Xevil  Beaucha:^ip  for  Dr.  Shrapnel,  in  the 
communications  directed  to  solicitors  of  the  persecutors  of 
poachers. 

His  behaviour  to  Granc^j^^  Lespel  was  eclipsed  by  hig 
treatment  of  Captain  Baskelett.  Cecil  had  ample  reason  to 
suppose  his  cousin  to  be  friendly  with  him.  He  himself 
had  forgotten  Dr.  Shrapnel,  and  all  other  dissensions,  in  a 


BETWEEN  BEAUCHAMP  AND  CECILIA.  351 

sapremely  Christian  spirit.  He  paid  his  cousin  the  compli- 
ment to  think  that  he  had  done  likewise.  At  Romfrey  and 
in  London  he  hal  spoken  to  Nevil  of  his  designs  upon  the 
widow  :  Nevil  said  nothing-  against  it :  and  it  was  under 
Mrs.  Wardour-Devereux's  eyes,  and  before  a  man  named 
Lydiard,  that,  never  calling  to  him  to  put  him  on  his  guard, 
Nevil  fell  foul  of  him  with  every  capital  charge  that  can  be 
brought  against  a  gentleman,  and  did  so  abuse,  worry,  and 
disgrace  him  as  to  reduce  him  to  quit  the  house  to  avoid  the 
scandal  of  a  resort  to  a  gentleman's  last  appeal  in  vindica- 
tion of  his  character.  IMrs.  Devereux  spoke  of  the  terrible 
scene  to  Cecilia,  and  Lydiard  to  Miss  Denham.  The  injured 
person  communicated  it  to  Lord  Avonley,  who  told  Colonel 
Halkett  emphatically  that  his  nephew  Cecil  deserved  well 
of  him  in  having  kept  command  of  his  temper  out  of  con- 
sideration for  the  family.  There  was  a  general  murmur  of 
the  family  over  this  incident.  The  widow  was  rich,  and  it 
ranked  among  the  unwritten  crimes  against  blood  for  one 
offshoot  of  a  great  house  wantonly  to  thwart  another  in  the 
wooing  of  her  by  humbling  him  in  her  presence,  doing  his 
utmost  to  expose  him  as  a  schemer,  a  culprit,  and  a  pol- 
troon. 

Could  it  be  that  Beauchamp  had  reserved  his  wrath  with 
his  cousin  to  avenge  Dr.  Shrapnel  upon  him  signally  ?  Miss 
Denham  feared  her  guardian  was  the  cause.  Lydiard  was 
indefinitely  of  her  opinion.  The  idea  struck  Cecilia  Halkett, 
and  as  an  example  of  Beauchamp's  tenacity  of  purpose  and 
sureness  of  aim  it  fascinated  her.  But  Mrs.  Wardour- 
Devereux  did  tiot  appear  to  share  it.  She  objected  to 
Beauchamp's  intemperateness  and  unsparingness,  as  if  she 
was  for  conveying  a  sisterly  warning  to  Cecilia  ;  and  that 
being  off  her  mind,  she  added,  smiling  a  little  and  colouring 
a  little  :  "  We  learn  only  from  men  what  men  are."  How 
the  scene  commenced  and  whether  it  was  provoked,  she 
failed  to  recollect.  She  described  Beauchamp  as  very  self- 
contained  in  manner  throughout  :  his  tongue  was  the  scor- 
pion. Cecilia  fancied  he  must  have  resembled  his  uncle 
Everard. 

Cecilia  was  conquered,  but  unclaimed.  While  support- 
ing and  approving  him  in  her  heart  she  was  dreading  to 
receive  some  new  problem  of  his  conduct;  and  still  while 
she  blamed  him  for  not  seeking  an  interview  with  her,  she 


352  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

liked  him  for  this  instance  of  delicacy  in  the  present  state  o! 
his  relations  with  Lord  Avonlej. 

A  problem  of  lier  own  conduct  disturbed  the  young  lady's 
clear  conception  of  herself :  and  this  was  a  ruffling  of 
unfaithfulness  in  her  love  of  Bcauchamp,  that  was  betrayed 
to  her  by  her  forgetfulness  of  him  whenever  she  chanced 
to  be  with  Seymour  Austin.  In  IMr.  Austin's  company  slie 
recovered  her  forfeited  repose,  her  poetry  of  life,  her  image 
of  the  independent  Cecilia  throned  above  our  dust  of  battle, 
gazing  on  broad  heaven.  She  carried  the  feeling  so  far  that 
Blackburn  Tuckham's  enthusiasm  for  Mr.  Austin  gave  him 
grace  in  her  sight,  and  praise  of  her  father's  favourite  from 
Mr.  Austin's  mouth  made  him  welcome  to  her.  The  ima^-e 
of  that  grave  capable  head,  dusty-grey  about  the  temples, 
and  the  darkly  sanguine  face  of  the  tried  man,  which  was 
that  of  a  seasoned  warrior  a;id  inspired  full  trust  in  him,  like 
a  good  sword,  with  his  vivid  look,  his  personal  distinction, 
his  plain  devotion  to  the  country's  business,  and  the  domestic 
solitude  he  lived  in,  admired,  esteemed,  loved  perhaps,  but 
unpartnered,  was  often  her  refuge  and  haven  from  tempest- 
uous Beauchamp.  She  could  see  in  vision  the  j^i'ide  of 
Seymour  Austin's  mate.  It  flushed  her  reflectively.  Con- 
quered but  not  claimed,  Cecilia  was  like  the  frozen  earth 
insensibly  moving  round  to  sunshine  in  nature,  with  one 
white  flower  in  her  breast :  as  innocent  a  sign  of  strong 
sweet  blood  as  a  woman  may  wear.  She  ascribed  to  that 
fair  mate  of  Seymour  Austin's  many  lofty  charms  of  woman- 
hood ;  above  all,  stateliness  :  her  especial  dream  of  an  attain- 
able superlative  beauty  in  women.  And  supposing  that  lady 
to  be  accused  oi  the  fickle  breaking  of  another  love,  who 
walked  beside  him,  matched  with  his  calm  heart  and  one 
with  him  in  counsel,  would  the  accusation  be  repeated  by 
them  that  beheld  her  husband  ?  might  it  noc  rather  be  said 
that  she  had  not  deviated,  but  had  only  stepped  higher  : 
She  chose  no  youth,  no  glistener,  no  idler:  it  was  her  soul 
striving  upward  to  air  like  a  seed  in  the  earth  that  rai  ed 
her  to  him :  and  she  could  say  to  the  man  once  enchaining 
her :  Friend,  by  the  good  you  taught  me  I  was  led  to  this  ! 

Cecilia's  reveries  flew  like  columns  of  mist  before  tho  gale 
when  tidings  reached  her  of  a  positive  rupture  between  Lord 
Avonhy  and  Nevil  Beauchamp,  and  of  the  mandate  to  him 
to  quit  possession    of    Holdesbury   and   the    London    hf)use 


BETWEEN  BEAUCHAMP  AND  CECILIA.  353 

within  a  certain  number  of  days,  because  of  liis  refusal  to 
utter  an  apology  to  Mrs.  Culling.  Angrily  on  his  behalf 
she  prepared  to  humble  herself  to  him.  Louise  Wardour- 
Devereux  brought  them  to  a  meeting,  at  vrliich  Cecilia,  with 
lier  heart  in  her  hand,  was  icy.  Mr.  Lydiard,  prompted  by 
Mrs.  Devereux,  gave  him  better  reasons  for  her  singular 
coldness  than  Cecilia  could  give  to  herself,  and  some  time 
afterward  Beauchamp  went  to  Mount  Laurels,  where  Colonel 
Halkett  mounted  guard  over  his  daughter,  and  behaved,  to 
her  thinking,  cruelly.  ''  Xow  you  have  ruined  yourself  there's 
nothing  ahead  for  you  but  to  go  to  the  Admiralty  and  apply 
for  a  ship,"  he  said,  sugaring  the  unkindness  with  the  remark 
that  the  country  would  be  the  gainer.  He  let  fly  a  side-shot 
at  London  men  calling  themselves  military  men  who  sought 
to  repair  their  fortunes  by  chasing  wealthy  widows,  and 
complimented  Beauchamp  :  "You're  not  one  of  that  sort." 

Cecilia  looked  at  Beauchamj)  steadfastly.  "  Speak,"  said 
the  look. 

But  he,  though  not  blind,  was  keenly  wounded. 

"  Money  I  must  have,"  he  said,  half  to  the  colonel,  half  to 
himself. 

Colonel  Halkett  shrugged.  Cecilia  waited  for  a  direct- 
ness in  Beauchamp's  eyes. 

Her  father  was  too  wary  to  leave  them. 

Cecilia's  intuition  told  her  that  by  leading  to  a  discussion 
of  politics,  and  adopting  Beauchamp's  views,  she  could  kindle 
him.  Why  did  she  refrain  ?  It  was  that  the  conquered 
young  lady  was  a  captive,  not  an  ally.  To  touch  the  subject 
in  cold  blood,  voluntarily  to  launch  on  those  vexed  waters, 
as  if  his  cause  were  her  heart's,  as  much  as  her  heart  was 
the  man's,  she  felt  to  be  impossible.  He  at  the  same  time 
felt  that  the  heiress,  endowing  him  with  money  to  speed  the 
good  cause,  should  he  his  match  in  ardour  for  it,  otherwise 
he  was  but  a  common  adventurer,  winning  and  despoiling  an 
heiress. 

They  met  in  London.  Beauchamp  had  not  vacated  either 
Holdesbury  or  the  town-house;  he  was  defying  his  uncle 
Everard,  and  Cecilia  thought  with  him  that  it  was  a  wise 
temerity.  She  thought  with  him  passively  altogether.  On 
this  occasion  she  had  not  to  wait  for  directness  in  his  eyes  ; 
she  had  to  parry  it.  They  were  at  a  dinner-party  at  Lady 
Elsea's,  generally  the  last  place  for  seeing  Lord  Palmet,  but 

2a 


354 

he  was  present,  and  arranged  things  neatly  for  them,  telling 
Beauchamp  that  he  acted  under  Mrs.  Wardoiir-Devereux's 
orders.  Never  was  an  opportunity  more  propitious  for  a 
desperate  lover.  Had  it  been  E-enee  next  him,  no  petty 
worldly  scruples  of  honour  would  have  held  him  back.  And 
if  Cecilia  had  spoken  feelingly  of  Dr.  Shrapnel,  or  had  she 
simulated  a  thoughtful  interest  in  his  pursuits,  his  hesita- 
tions would  have  vanished.  As  it  was,  he  dared  to  look 
what  he  did  not  permit  himself  to  speak.  She  was  nobly 
lovely,  and  the  palpable  envy  of  men  around  cried  fool  at 
his  delays.  Beggar  and  heiress  !  he  said  in  his  heart,  to 
vitalize  the  three-parts  fiction  of  the  point  of  honour  which 
Cecilia's  beauty  was  fast  submerging.  When  she  was  leaving 
he  named  a  day  for  calling  to  see  her.  Colonel  Halkett  stood 
by,  and  she  answered,  "  Come." 

Beauchamp  kept  the  appointment.     Cecilia  was  absent. 

He  was  unaware  that  her  father  had  taken  her  to  old  Mrs. 
Beauchamp's  death-bed.  Her  absence,  after  she  had  said, 
"  Come,"  ajDpeared  a  confirmation  of  her  glacial  manner  when 
they  met  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Wardour-Devereux  ;  and  he 
charged  her  with  waywardness.  A  wound  of  the  same  kind 
that  we  are  inflicting  is  about  the  severest  we  can  feel. 

Beauchamp  received  intelligence  of  his  A'enerable  great- 
aunt's  death  from  Blackburn  Tuckham,  and  after  the  funeral 
he  was  informed  that  eighty  thousand  pounds  had  been  be- 
queathed to  him :  a  goodly  sum  of  money  for  a  gentleman 
recently  beggared  :  j'.et,  as  the  political  enthusiast  could  not 
help  reckoning  (apart  from  a  fervent  sentiment  of  gratitude 
toward  his  benefactress),  scarcely  enough  to  do  much  more 
than  stai't  and  jiush  for  three  or  moi-e  years  a  commanding 
daily  newsi^aper,  devoted  to  Radical  interests,  and  to  be 
entitled  The  Dawx. 

True,  he  might  now  conscientiously  approach  the  heiress, 
take  her  hand  with  an  open  countenance,  and  retain  it. 

Could  he  do  so  quite  conscientiously?  The  iioint  of  honour 
had  been  centered  in  his  condition  of  beggary.  Something 
still  was  in  his  way.  A  quick  spring  of  his  blood  for  air, 
motion,  excitement,  holiday  freedom,  sent  his  thoughts  tra- 
velling whither  they  always  shot  away  when  his  redoubtable 
natural  temper  broke  loose. 

In  the  case  of  any  other  woman  than  Cecilia  Halkett  ho 
would  not  have  been  obstructed  by  the  minor  consideration 


BETWEEN  BEAUCHAMP  AXD  CECILIA.  355 

as  to  whether  he  was  wholly  heart-free  to  ask  her  in  marriage 
that  instant ;  for  there  was  no  hindrance,  and  she  was  beau- 
tiful. She  was  exceedingly  beautiful ;  and  she  was  an  un- 
equalled heiress.  Alone  she  would  be  able  with  her  wealth 
to  float  his  newspaper,  The  Dawn,  so  desired  of  Dr.  Shrapnel! 
— the  best  restorative  that  could  be  applied  to  him  !  Every 
temptation  came  supplicating  him  to  take  the  step  wl  "ch 
indeed  he  wished  for :  one  feeling  opposed.  He  reall}^  re- 
spected Cecilia  :  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  he  worshipped 
her  with  the  devout  worship  rendered  to  the  ideal  English- 
woman by  the  heart  of  the  nation.  ^For  him  she  was 
purity,  charity,  the  keejoer  of  the  keys  of  whatsoever  is  held 
precious  by  men ;  she  was  a  midway  saint,  a  light  between 
day  and  darkness,  in  whom  the  spirit  in  the  flesh  shone  like 
the  growing  star  amid  thin  sanguine  colour,  the  sweeter,  the 
brighter,  the  more  translucent  the  longer  known.  And  if 
the  image  will  allow  it,  the  nearer  down  to  him  the  holier 
she  seemed. 

How  offer  himself  when  he  was  not  perfectly  certain  that 
he  was  worthy  of  her  ? 

Some  jugglery  was  played  by  the  adept  male  heart  in 
these  later  hesitations.  Up  to  the  extent  of  his  knowledge 
of  himself,  the  man  was  fairly  sincere.  Passion  would  have 
sped  him  to  Cecilia,  but  passion  is  not  invariably  love ;  and 
we  know  what  it  can  be. 

The  glance  he  cast  over  the  water  at  Normandy  was  with- 
drawn. He  went  to  Bevisham  to  consult  with  Dr.  Shrapnel 
about  the  starting  of  a  weekly  joui^nal,  instead  of  a  daily, 
and  a  name  for  it — a  serious  question :  for  though  it  is 
of  tener  weekly  than  daily  that  the  dawn  is  visible  in  England, 
titles  must  not  invite  the  public  jest ;  and  the  glorious  pro- 
ject of  the  daily  Dawn  was  prudently  abanddned  for  by- 
and-by.  He  thought  himself  rich  enough  to  put  a  Eadical 
champion  weekly  in  the  field  :  and  this  matter,  excepting 
the  title,  was  arranged  in  Bevisham.  Thence  he  proceeded 
to  Holdesbury,  where  he  heard  that  the  house,  grounds,  and 
farm  were  let  to  a  tenant  preparing  to  enter.  Indifferent  to 
the  blow,  he  kept  an  engagement  to  deliver  a  speech  at  the 
great  manufacturing  town  of  Gunningham,  and  then  went 
to  London,  visiting  his  uncle's  town-house  for  recent  letters. 
Kot  one  was  from  Renee :  she  had  not  written  for  six 
weeks,  not  once  for  his  thrice !     A  letter  from  Cecil  Baske- 

2a2 


356  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

letfc  informed  him  that  '  my  lord '  had  placed  the  town-house 
at  his  disposal.  Returning  to  dress  for  dinner  on  a  thick 
and  murky  evening  of  February,  Beauchamp  encountered 
his  cousin  on  the  steps.  He  said  to  Cecil,  "  I  sleep  here  to- 
night :  I  leave  the  house  to  you  to-morrow." 

Cecil  struck  out  his  underjaw  to  reply  :  "  Oh  !  good.  You 
sleep  here  to-night.  You  are  a  fortunate  man.  I  congratu- 
late you.  I  shall  not  disturb  you.  I  have  just  entered  on 
my  occupation  of  the  house.  I  have  my  key.  Allow  me  to 
recommend  you  to  go  straight  to  the  drawing-room.  And  I 
may  inform  you  that  the  Earl  of  Romfrey  is  at  the  point  at 
death.     My  lord  is  at  the  castle." 

Cecil  accompanied  his  descent  of  the  steps  with  the 
humming  of  an  opera  melody.  Beauchamp  tripped  into 
the  hall-passage.  A  young  maid-servant  held  the  door 
open,  and  she  accosted  him  :  "  If  you  please,  there  is  a  lady 
up-stairs  in  the  di-a wing-room  ;  she  sjoeaks  foreign  English, 
sir." 

Beauchamp  asked  if  the  lady  was  alone,  and  not  waiting 
for  the  answer,  though  he  listened  while  writing,  and  heard 
that  she  was  heavily  veiled,  he  tore  a  strip  from  his  note- 
book, and  carefully  traced  hs:lf-a-dozen  telegraphic  words  to 
Mrs.  Culling  at  Steynham.  His  rarely  failing  promptness, 
which  was  like  an  inspiration,  to  conceive  and  execute 
measures  for  averting  peril,  set  him  on  the  thought  of  pos- 
sibly counteracting  his  cousin  Cecil's  malignant  tongue  by 
means  of  a  message  to  Rosamund,  summoning  lier  by  tele- 
graph to  come  to  town  by  the  next  tiain  that  night.  He 
despatched  the  old  woman  keeping  the  house,  as  trustier 
than  the  young  one,  to  the  neai-est  office,  and  went  up  to 
the  drawing-room,  with  a  quick  thumping  heart  that  was 
nevertheless  as  little  apprehensive  of  an  especial  trial  and 
danger  as  if  he  had  done  nothing  at  all  to  obviate  it.  In- 
deed he  forgot  that  he  had  done  anything  when  he  turned 
the  handle  of  the  drawing-room  door. 


A  TEIAL  OF  HIM.  357 

CHAPTER  XL. 

A  TRIAL  OF  HIM. 

A  LOW-BURNING  lamp  and  fire  cast  a  narrow  ring  on  the 
shadows  of  the  dusky  London  room.  One  of  the  window- 
blinds  was  draw^n  tip.  Beauchamp  discerned  a  shape  at 
that  window,  and  the  fear  seized  him  that  it  might  be 
Madame  d'Anffrav  with  evil  news  of  Renee  :  but  it  was 
Renee's  name  he  called.     Sho  rose  from  her  chair,   saying, 

t(  T   '» 

She  was  trembling. 

Beauchamp  asked  her  whisperingly  if  she  had  come 
alone. 

"  Alone  ;  without  even  a  maid,"  she  murmured. 

He  pulled  down  the  blind  of  the  windo^v  exposing  them 
to  the  square,  and  led  her  into  the  liuht  to  see  her  face. 
The  dimness  of  light  annoyed  him,  and  the  miserable  recep- 
tion of  her;"4his  English  weather,  and  the  gloomy  house ! 
And  how  long  had  she  been  waiting  for  him  ?  and  what 
was  the  mystery  ?  Renee  in  England  seemed  magical ;  yet 
it  was  nothmg  stranger  than  an  old  dream  realized.  He 
wound  up  the  lamp,  holding  her  still  with  one  hand.  She 
was  woefully  pale  ;  scarcely  able  to  bear  the  increase  of 
light. 

"  It  is  I  who  come  to  you  :"  she  was  half  audible. 

"  This  time  !"  said  he.     "  You  have  been  suffering  ?** 

"  No." 

Her  tone  was  brief  ;  not  reassuring. 

*'  You  came  straight  to  me  ?"' 

"  Without  a  deviation  that  I  know  of." 

"  From  Tourdestelle  ?" 

"  You  have  not  forgotten  Tourdestelle,  Nevil  ?" 

The  memory  of  it  quickened  his  rapture  in  reading  hei 
features.  It  was  his  first  love,  his  enchantress,  who  was 
here:  and  how  ?  Conjectures  shot  through  him  like  light- 
nings in  the  dark. 

Irrationally,  at  a  moment  when  reason  stood  in  awe,  he 
fancied  it  must  be  that  her  husband  was  dead.     He  forced 


358  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAB.1CER. 

himself  to  think  it,  and  could  liave  smiled  at  tlie  Imrrj  of 
her  coming,  alone,  without  even  a  maid  :  and  deeper  down 
in  him  the  devouring  question  burned  which  dreaded  the 
answer. 

But  of  old,  in  Normandy,  she  had  pledged  herself  to  join 
Lim  with  no  delay  when  free,  if  ever  free  ! 

So  now  she  was  free. 
J  One   side  of  him  glowed  in  illumination;  the  other  wa? 
black  as  Winter  night;  but  light  subdues  darkness  ;  and  in 
a  situation  like  Beauchamp's,  the  blood  is  liveliei-  than   the 
prophetic  mind. 

"  Why  did  you  tell  me  to  marry  ?  What  did  that  mean  ?" 
said  he.  "  Did  yoii  wish  me  to  be  the  one  in  chains  ?  And 
you  have  come  quite  alone  ! — you  will  give  me  an  account  of 
ever3-thing  presently : — You  are  here !  in  England !  and 
what  a  welcome  for  you !     You  are  cold." 

"  I  am  warmly  clad,"  said  Renee,  suffering  her  hand  to 
be  drawn  to  his  bi'east  at  her  arm's  length,  not  bending 
with  it. 

Alive  to  his  own  indirectness,  he  was  conscious  at  once 
of  the  slight  sign  of  reservation,  and  said  :  "  Tell  me  .  .  .  ." 
and  swerved  sheer  away  from  his  question :  "  how  is 
Madame  d'Auifray  ?" 

"  Agnes  ?     I  left  her  at  Tourdestelle,"  said  Renee. 

*'  And  Roland  ?     He  never  writes  to  me." 

"  Neither  he  nor  I  write  much.  He  is  at  the  militaiy 
camp  of  instruction  in  the  North." 

"  He  will  run  over  to  us." 

"  Do  not  expect  it." 

"  Why  not  ?" 

Renee  sighed..     "  We  shall  have  to  live  longer  than  I  look 

for "  she  stopped. — "  Wliy  do  you  ask  me  why  not  ? 

He  is  fond  of  us  both,  and  sorry  for  us;  but  have  you  for- 
gotten Roland  that  morning  on  the  Adriatic  ?" 

Beauchamp  pressed  her  hand.  The  stroke  of  Then  and 
Now  rang  in  his  breast  like  a  bell  instead  of  a  bounding 
heart.  Something  had  stunned  his  heart.  He  had  no  clear 
central  feeling;  he  tried  to  gather  it  from  her  touch,  from 
his  joy  in  beholding  her  and  sitting  with  her  alone,  from  the 
grace  of  her  figure,  the  wild  sweetness  of  her  eyes,  and  the 
beloved  foreign  lips  bewitching  him  with  their  exquisite 
French  and  perfection  of  speech. 


A  TRIAL  OF  HIM.  359 

His  natnre  was  too  prompt  in  responding  to  sucli  a  call  on 
it  for  resolnte  warmth. 

"If  I  had  been  firmer  then,  or  you  one  year  older!"  he 
said. 

"  That  girl  in  Venice  had  no  courage,"  said  Renee. 

She  raised  her  head  and  looked  about  the  room. 

Her  instinct  of  love  sounded  her  lover  through,  and  felt 
the  deficiency  or  the  contrariety  in  him,  as  surely  as  musical 
cars  are  pained  by  a  discord  that  they  require  no  touchstone 
to  detect.  Passion  has  the  sensitiveness  of  fever,  and  is  as 
cruelly  chilled  by  a  tepid  air. 

"  Yes,  a  London  house  after  Venice  and  Normandy  !"  said 
Beauchamp  following  her  look. 

"  Sicily :  do  not  omit  Syracuse ;  you  were  in  your  naval 
uniform :  Normandy  was  our  third  meeting,"  said  Renee. 
"  This  is  the  fourth.     I  should  have  reckoned  that." 

"  Why  ?     Superstitiously  ?" 

"  We  cannot  be  entirely  wise  when  we  have  staked  our 
fate.     Sailors  are  credulous:  you  know  them.     Women  are 

like  them  when  they  embark Three  chances  !     Who 

can  boast  of  so  many,  and  expect  one  more  !  Will  you  take 
me  to  my  hotel,  Nevil  ?" 

The  fiction  of  her  being  free  could  not  be  sustained. 

"  Take  you  and  leave  you  ?  I  am  absolutely  at  your 
command.  But  leave  you  ?  You  are  alone  :  and  you  have 
told  me  nothing." 

What  was  there  to  tell  ?  The  desperate  act  was  apparent, 
and  told  all. 

Renee's  dark  e^^elashes  lifted  on  him,  and  dropped. 

"  Then  things  are  as  I  left  them  in  Normandy  ?"  said  he. 

She  replied  :  "  Almost." 

He  quivered  at  the  solitary  word ;  for  his  conscience  was 
on  edge.  It  ran  the  shrewdest  irony  through  him,  inex- 
plicably. "Almost:"  that  is,  '  with  this  poor  difference  of 
one  person,  now  finding  herself  worthless,  subtracted  from 
the  list ;  no  other;  it  should  be  little  to  them  as  it  is  little  to 
you :'  or,  reversing  it,  the  substance  of  the  word  became 
magnified  and  intensified  by  its  humble  slightness  :  '  Things 
are  the  same,  but  for  the  jewel  of  the  province,  a  lustre  of 
France,  lured  hither  to  her  eclipse:'  —  meanings  various, 
indistinguishable,   thrilling  and  piercing  sad    as  the  half- 


360  BEAUCHAMP^S  CAREER. 

tones  humming  round  tlie  note  of  a  strung  wire,  which  is  a 
blant  single  note  to  the  common  ear. 

Beauchamp  sprang  to  his  feet  and  bent  above  her :  "  You 
have  come  to  me,  for  the  love  of  me,  to  give  yourself  to  me, 
and  for  ever,  for  good,  till  death  ?  Speak,  my  beloved 
E-enee." 

Her  eyes  were  raised  to  his  :  "  You  see  me  here.  It  is  for 
you  to  speak." 

"  I  do.  There's  nothing  I  ask  for  now — if  the  step  can't 
be  retrieved," 

"  The  step  retrieved,  my  friend  ?  There  is  no  step  back- 
ward in  life." 

"  I  am  thinking  of  you,  Renee." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  she  answered  hurriedly. 
y  "  If  we  discover  that  the  step  is  a  wrong  one  ?"  he  pursued: 
"nA^hy  is  there  no  step  backward  ?" 

"  I  am  talking  of  women,"  said  Renee. 

"  Why  not  for  women  ?' 

"  Honourable  women,  I  mean,"  said  Renee. 

Beanchamp  inclined  to  forget  his  position  in  finding  matter 
to  contest. 

Yet  it  is  beyond  contest  that  there  is  no  step  backward  in 
life.  She  spoke  well ;  better  than  he,  and  she  won  his  defer- 
ence by  it.  Not  only  she  spoke  better :  she  was  truer,  dis- 
tincter,  braver:  and  a  man  ever  on  the  look-out  for  superior 
qualities,  and  ready  to  bow  to  them,  could  not  refuse  her 
homage.     With  that  a  saving  sense  of  power  quitted  him. 

"  You  wi'ote  to  me  that  you  w^ere  unchanged,  Nevil." 

« I  am." 

"  So,  then,  I  came." 

His  rejoinder  was  the  dumb  one,  commonly  eloquent  and 
satisfactory. 

Renee  shut  her  eyes  with  a  painful  rigour  of  endurance. 

She  opened  them  to  look  at  him  steadily. 

The  desperate  act  of  her  flight  demanded  immediate  rccog- 
nition  from  him  in  simple  language  and  a  practical  seconding 
of  it.     There  was  the  test. 

"  I  cannot  stay  in  this  house,  Nevil ;  take  me  away." 

She  named  her  hotel  in  her  French  English,  and  the  sound 
of  it  penetrated  him  with  remorseful  pity.  It  was  for  him, 
and  of  his  doing,  that  she  was  in  an  alien  land  and  an  out- 
cast I 


A  TKIAL  OP  HIM.  S61 

"  This  house  is  wretclied  for  you,"  said  lie :  "  and  jou  must 
be  hungry.     Let  me  .  .   ." 

"  I  cannot  eat.  I  will  ask  you :"  she  paused,  drawing  on 
her  energies,  and  keeping  down  the  throbs  of  her  heart : 
"  this  :  do  you  love  me  r" 

*'  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart  and  soul." 

"As  in  N'ormandy  ?" 

"  Yes." 

« In  Venice  H" 

"  As  from  the  first,  Renee !     That  I  can  swear." 

"  Oaths  are  foolish.  I  meant  to  ask  you — my  friend,  there 
is  no  question  in  my  mind  of  any  other  woman :  I  see  you 
love  me :  I  am  so  used  to  consider  myself  the  vain  and 
cowardly  creature,  and  you  the  boldest  and  faithfullest  of 
men,  that  I  could  not  abandon  the  habit  if  I  would :  I  started 
confiding  in  you,  sure  that  I  should  come  to  land.  But  I 
have  to  ask  you  : — to  me  you  are  truth :  I  have  no  claim  on 
my  lover  for  anything  but  the  answer  to  this: — Am  I  a 
burden  to  you  ?" 

His  brows  flew  up  in  furrows.  He  drew  a  heavy  breath, 
for  never  had  he  loved  her  more  admiringly,  and  never  on 
such  equal  terms.  She  was  his  mate  in  love  and  daring  at 
least.  A  sorrowful  comparison  struck  him  of  a  little  boat 
sailing  out  to  a  vessel  in  deep  seas  and  left  to  founder. 

Without  knotting  his  mind  to  acknowledge  or  deny  the 
burden,  for  he  could  do  neither,  he  stood  silent,  staring  at 
her,  not  so  much  in  weakness  as  in  positive  mental  division. 
No,  would  be  false  ;  and  Yes,  not  less  false  ;  and  if  the  step 
was  irretrievable,  to  say  Yes  would  be  to  plunge  a  dagger  in 
her  bosom  ;  but  jSTo  was  a  vain  deceit  involving  a  double 
wreck.  Assuredly  a  man  standing  against  the  world  in  a 
good  cause,  with  a  runaway  wife  on  his  hands,  carries  a 
burden,  however  precious  it  be  to  him. 

A  smile  of  her  lips,  parted  in  an  anguish  of  expectancy, 
went  to  death  over  Renee's  face.  She  looked  at  him  tenderly. 
"  The  truth,"  she  murmured  to  herself,  and  her  eyelids  fell. 
"I  am  ready  to  bear  anything,"  said  Beauchamp.  "I 
weigh  what  you  ask  me,  that  is  all.  You  a  burden  to  me  ? 
But  when  you  ask  me,  you  make  me  turn  round  and  inquire 
how  we  stand  before  the  world." 

*'  The  world  does  not  atone  men,"  said  Renee. 

"  Can't  I  make  you  leel  that  I  am  not  thinking  of  myself  ?" 


362  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Beauchairip  stamped  in  his  extreme  perplexity.  He  was 
gagged;  he  could  not  possibly  talk  to  her,  who  had  cast  the 
die,  of  his  later  notions  of  morality  and  the  world's  dues, 
fees,  and  claims  on  us. 

"No,  friend,  1  am  not  complaining."  Renee  put  out  her 
hand  to  him  ;  with  compassionate  irony  feigning  to  have 
heard  excuses.  "What  right  have  I  to  complain  ?  T  have 
not  the  sensation.  I  could  not  expect  you  to  be  everlastinrrly 
the  sentinel  of  love.  Three  times  I  rejected  3^ou  !  Now  that 
I  have  lost  ray  father — Oh  !  poor  father :  I  trifled  with  my 
lover,  I  tricked  him  that  my  father  might  live  in  peace.  He 
is  dead.  I  wished  you  to  marry  one  of  your  own  country- 
v,omen,  Nevil.  You  said  it  was  impossible  ;  and  I,  with 
ray  snake  at  my  heart,  and  a  husband  grateful  for  nurs- 
ing and  whimpering  to  me  for  his  youth  like  a  beggar 
on  the  road,  I  thought  I  owed  you  this  debt  of  body  and 
Koul,  to  prove  to  you  I  have  some  courage  ;  and  for  myself, 
to  reward  myself  for  my  long  captivity  and  misery  with  one 
year  of  life:  and  adieu  to  Roland  my  brother!  adieu  to 
friends  !  adieu  to  France !  Italy  was  our  home.  I  dreamed 
of  one  year  in  Italy ;  I  fancied  it  might  be  two  ;  more  than 
that  was  unimaginable.  Prisoners  of  long  date  do  not  hope  ; 
they  do  not  calculate  :  air,  light,  they  say  ;  to  breathe  freely 
and  drop  down !  They  are  reduced  to  the  instincts  of  the 
beasts.  I  thought  1  might  give  you  happiness,  pay  part 
of  my  debt  to  you.  Are  you  remembering  Count  Henri  ? 
That  paints  what  I  was  !  I  could  fly  to  that  for  a  taste  of 
life  !  a  dance  to  death  !  And  again  you  ask :  Why,  if  I 
loved  you  then,  not  turn  to  yoti  in  preference  ?  No,  you  have 
answered  it  yourself,  Ne^il ; — on  that  day  in  the  boat,  when 
generosity  in  a  man  so  surprised  me,  it  seemed  a  miracle  to 
me  ;  and  it  was,  in  its  divination.  How  I  thank  my  dear 
brother  Roland  for  saving  me  the  sight  of  you  condemned  to 
fight,  against  your  conscience  !  He  taught  poor  M.  d'Henriel 
his  lesson.  You,  Nevil,  were  my  teacher.  And  see  how  it 
hangs  :  there  was  mercy  for  me  in  not  having  drawn  down 
my  father's  anger  on  my  heart's  beloved.  He  loved  you. 
He  pitied  us.  He  reproached  himself.  In  his  last  days  he 
was  taught  to  suspect  our  story :  perhaps  from  Roland ; 
perhaps  I  breathed  it  without  speakino-.  He  called  heaven's 
blessings  on  you.  He  spoke  of  you  with  tears,  clutching  my 
hand.     He  made  me  feel  he  would  have  cried  out :  *  If  I  were 


A  TRIAL  OP  HIM.  363 

leaving'  her  with  Nevil  Beauchamp  !'  and  *Beancliainp,'  I 
heard  him  murmuring  once :  '  take  do\Yn  Froissart :'  he 
named  a  chapter.  It  was  curious :  if  he  uttered  my  name 
Renee,  yours,  '  Xevil,'  soon  followed.  That  was  noticed  by 
Boland.  Hope  for  us,  he  could  not  have  had  ;  as  little  as  I ! 
But  we  were  his  two  :  his  children.  I  buried  him — I  thought 
he  would  know  our  innocence,  and  now  pardon  our  love.  I 
read  your  letters,  from  my  name  at  the  beginning,  to  yours 
at  the  end,  and  from  yours  back  to  mine,  and  between  the 
lines,  for  any  doubtful  spot :  and  oh,  rash !  But  I  would 
not  retrace  the  step  for  my  own  sake.  I  am  certain  of  your 
love  for  me,  though  .  .  ."  She  paused  :  "  Yes,  I  am  certain 
of  it.     And  if  I  am  a  burden  to  you  ?" 

"■  About  as  much  as  the  air,  which  I  can't  do  without  since 
I  began  to  breathe  it,"  said  Beauchamp,  more  clear-mindedly 
now  that  he  supposed  he  was  addressing  a  mind,  and  with 
a  peril  to  himself  that  escaped  his  vigilance.  There  was  a 
secret  intoxication  for  him  ah^eady  in  the  half-certainty  that 
the  step  could  not  be  retraced.  The  idea  that  he  might  reason 
with  her,  made  her  seductive  to  the  heart  and  head  of  him. 

"  I  am  passably  rich,  jSTevil,"  she  said.  "  I  do  not  care 
for  money,  except  that  it  gives  wings.  Roland  inherits  the 
chateau  in  Touraine.  I  have  one  in  Burgundy,  and  rentes 
and  shares,  my  notary  informs  me." 

"  I  have  money,"  said  he.  His  heart  began  beating  vio- 
lently. He  lost  sight  of  his  intention  of  reasoning.  "  Good 
God  !  if  you  were  free  !" 

She  faltered:  "  At  Tourdestelle  .  .    " 

"  Yes,  and  I  am  unchanged,"  Beauchamp  cried  out. 
"  Your  life  there  was  horrible,  and  mine's  intolerable."  He 
stretched  his  arms  cramjDed  like  the  yawning  of  a  wretch  in 
fetters.  That  which  he  would  and  would  not  became  so 
intervolved  that  he  deemed  it  reasonable  to  instance  their 
common  misery  as  a  ground  for  their  union  against  the 
world.  And  what  has  that  world  done  for  us,  that  a  joy  so 
immeasurable  should  be  rejected  on  its  behalf  ?  And  what 
have  we  succeeded  in  doing,  that  the  childish  effort  to  move 
it  should  be  continued  at  such  a  cost  ? 

For  years,  down  to  one  year  back,  and  less — yesterday,  it 
could  be  said — all  human  blessedness  appeared  to  him  in 
the  person  of  Renee,  given  him  under  any  condition  whatso- 
ever.    She  was  not  less  adorable  now.     In  her  decision,  and 


364 

a  courage  tliat  he  especially  prized  in  T^omen,  she  was  a 
sweeter  to  him.  than  when  he  was  with  her  in  France  :  too 
sweet  to  be  looked  at  and  refused. 

"  But  we  must  live  in  England,"  he  cried  abruptly  out  of 
his  inner  mind, 

j  "  Oh !  not  England,  Italy,  Italy  !'*  Renee  exclaimed : 
v' Italy,  or  Greece:  anywhere  where  we  have  sunlight. 
Mountains  and  valleys  are  my  dream.  Promise  it,  Xevil. 
I  will  obey  you  ;  but  this  is  my  wish.  Take  me  through 
Venice,  that  I  may  look  at  myself  and  wonder.  We  can  live 
at  sea,  in  a  yacht;  anywhere  with  you  but  in  England. 
This  country  frowns  on  me  ;  I  can  hardly  fetch  my  breath 
here,  I  am  suffocated.  The  people  all  walk  in  lines  in  Eng- 
land. Not  here,  iS'evil  !  They  are  good  people,  I  am  sure  ; 
and  it  is  your  country :  but  their  faces  chill  me,  their  voices 
grate  ;  I  should  never  understand  them  ;  they  would  be  to 
me  like  their  fogs  eternally ;  and  I  to  them  ?  0  me  !  it 
would  be  like  hearing  sentence  in  the  dampness  of  the 
shroud  perpetually.  Again  I  say  I  do  not  doubt  that  they 
are  very  good :  they  claim  to  be ;  they  judge  others  ;  they 
may  know  how  to  make  themselves  happy  in  their  climate; 
it  is  common  to  most  creatures  to  do  so,  or  to  imagine  it. 
Nevil !  not  England  !'* 

Truly  '  the  mad  commander  and  his  French  marquise '  of 
the  Bevisham  Election  ballad  would  make  a  pretty  figure  in 
England ! 

His  friends  of  his  own  class  would  be  mouthing  it.  The 
story  would  be  a  dogging  shadow  of  his  public  life,  and, 
quite  as  bad,  a  reflection  on  his  party.  He  heard  the  yelp- 
ing tongues  of  the  cynics.  He  saw  the  consternation  and 
^rief  of  his  old  Bevisham  hero,  his  leader  and  his  teacher. 

"  Florence,"  he  said,  musing  on  the  prospect  of  exile  and 
idleness  :  "  there's  a  kind  of  society  to  be  had  in  Florence." 

Renee  asked  him  if  he  cared  so  much  for  society. 
"  He  replied  that  women  must  have  it,  just  as  men  must 
have  exercise. 

**  Old  women,  Nevil ;  intriguers,  tattlers.** 

**  Young  women,  Eenee." 

She  signified  no. 

He  shook  the  head  of  superior  knowledge  paternally. 
J  Her  instinct  of  comedy  set  a  dimple  faintly  working  in  her 
cheek. 


A  TETAL  OF  HIM.  365 

"  N"ot  if  tliej  love,  Nevil." 

"  At  least,"  Scaid  he,  "  a  man  does  not  like  to  see  the  Avoman 
he  loves  banished  by  society  and  browbeaten." 

"  Putting  me  aside,  do  you  care  for  it,  Nevil  ?" 

"Personally  not  a  jot." 

"  I  am  convinced  of  that,"  said  Renee. 

She  spoke  suspiciously  sweetly,  appearing  perfect  can- 
dour. 

The  change  in  him  was  perceptible  to  her.  The  nature  of 
the  change  was  unfathomable. 

She  tried  her  wits  at  the  riddle.  But  though  she  could 
be  an  actress  before  him  with  little  difficulty,  the  torment 
of  her  situation  roused  the  fever  within  her  at  a  bare  effo:t 
to  think  acutely.  Scarlet  suffused  her  face :  her  brain 
whirled. 

"  Remember,  dearest,  I  have  but  offered  myself:  you  have 
your  choice.  I  can  pass  on.  Yes,  I  know  well  T  speak  to 
IN'evil  Beauchamp  ;  you  have  drilled  me  to  trust  you  and 
your  word  as  a  soldier  trusts  to  his  officer — once  a  faint- 
hearted soldier !  I  need  not  remind  you  :  fronting  the 
enemy  now,  in  hard  truth.  But  I  want  your  whole  heart  to 
decide.  Give  me  no  silly  compassion  !  Would  it  have  been 
better  to  me  to  have  written  to  you  ?  If  I  had  written  I 
should  have  clipped  my  glorious  impulse,  brought  myself 
down  to  earth  with  my  own  ai-row.  I  did  not  write,  for  I 
believed  in  you." 

So  firm  had  been  her  faith  in  him  that  her  visions  of  him 
on  the  passage  to  England  had  resolved  all  to  one  flash  of 
blood-warm  welcome  awaiting  her:  and  it  says  much  for  her 
natural  generosity  that  the  savage  delicacy  of  a  woman 
placed  as  she  now  was,  did  not  take  a  mortal  hurt  from  the 
apjiarent  voidness  of  this  home  of  his  bosom.  The  pas- 
sionate gladness  of  the  lover  was  wanting  :  the  chivalrous 
valiancy  of  manful  joy. 

Renee  shivered  at  the  cloud  thickening  over  her  new  light 
of  intrepid  defiant  life. 

"  Think  it  not  improbable  that  I  have  v>-eighed  everything 
I  surrender  in  quitting  France,"  she  said. 

Remorse  wrestled  with  Beauchamp  and  flung  him  at  her 
feet. 

Renee  remarked  on  the  lateness  of  the  hour. 

He  promised  to  conduct  her  to  her  hotel  immediately. 


SQQ  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"And  to-morrow?"  said  Renee,  simply,  but  bronth- 
lessly. 

"To-morrow,  let  it  be  Italy!  But  first  I  telegrajih  to 
Roland  and  Tourdestelle.  I  can't  run  and  hide.  The  step 
may  be  retrieved:  or  no,  you  are  right ;  the  step  cannot,  but 
the  next  to  it  may  be  stopped — that  was  the  meaning  I  had  ! 
I'll  try.  It's  cutting  my  hand  off,  tearing  my  heart  out ;  but 
I  will.  0  that  you  were  free !  You  left  vour  husband  at 
Tourdestelle  ?" 

"  I  presume  he  is  there  at  present :  he  was  in  Paris  when 
I  left." 

Beauchamp  spoke  hoarsel}^  and  incoherently  in  contrast 
with  her  composure:  "You  will  misunderstand  me  for  a  day 
or  two,  Renee.  I  say  if  you  were  free  I  should  have  my  fii-st 
love  mine  for  ever.  Don't  fear  me  :  I  have  no  right  even  to 
press  your  fingers.  He  may  throw  you  into  my  arms.  Now 
you  are  the  same  as  if  you  were  in  your  own  home  :  and  you 
must  accept  me  for  your  guide.  By  all  I  hope  for  in  life, 
I'll  see  you  through  it,  and  keep  the  dogs  from  barking,  if  I 
can.  Thousands  are  ready  to  give  tongue.  And  if  they  can 
get  me  in  the  character  of  a  lawbreaker  ! — I  hear  them." 

"Are  you  imagining.  Nevil,  that  tliere  is  a  possibility  of 
my  returning  to  him  ?" 

"  To  your  plaoe  in  the  world !  You  have  not  had  to 
endure  tyranny  ?" 

"  I  should  have  had  a  certain  respect  for  a  tyrant,  Nevil. 
At  least  I  should  have  had  an  occupation  in  mocking  him 
and  conspiring  against  him.  Tyranny!  there  would  have 
been  some  amusement  to  me  in  that." 

"  It  was  neglect." 

"  If  I  could  still  charge  it  on  neglect,  Nevil !  Neglect  is 
very  endurable.  He  rewards  me  for  nursing  him  ...  ho 
rewards  me  with  a  little  persecution :  wives  should  be 
flattered  by  it :    it  comes  late." 

"  What  ?"  cried  Beauchamp,  oppressed  and  impatient. 

Renee  sank  her  voice  : 

Something  in  the  run  of  th'3  unaccented  French  :  "  Son 
amour,  mon  ami :"  drove  the  significance  of  the  bitterness  of 
the  life  she  had  left  behind  her  burningly  through  him. 
This  was  to  have  fled  from  a  dragon !  was  the  lover's 
thought:  he  perceived  the  motive  of  her  flight:  and  it  v.-a,"^ 
a  vindication  of  it  that  appealed  to  him  irresistibly.     The 


A  TRIAL  OP  HIM.  367 

proposal  for  her  return  grew  Mdeous  :  and  this  ever  multi- 
plying horror  and  sting  of  the  love  of  a  married  woman  came 
on  liini  with  a  fresh  throbbing  shock,  more  venom. 

He  felt  for  himself  now,  and  now  he  was  full  of  feeling 
for  her.  Impossible  that  she  should  return!  Tourdestelle 
shone  to  him  like  a  gaping  chasm  of  fire.  And  becoming 
entirely  selfish  he  impressed  his  total  abnegation  of  self  upon 
Renee  so  that  she  could  have  worshipped  him.  A  lover  that 
was  like  a  starry  frost,  froze  her  veins,  bewildered  her 
intelligence.  She  yearned  for  meridian  warmth,  for  repose 
in  a  directing  hand ;  and  let  it  be  hard  as  one  that  grasps 
a  sword  :  what  matter  ?  unhesitatingness  was  the  warrior 
virtue  of  her  desire.  And  for  herself  the  worst  might 
happen  if  only  she  were  borne  along.  Let  her  life  be  torn 
and  streaming  like  the  flag  of  battle,  it  must  be  forward  to 
the  end. 

That  was  a  quality  of  godless  young  heroism  not  unex- 
hausted in  Beauchamp's  blood.  Reanimated  by  him,  she 
awakened  his  imagination  of  the  vagrant  splendours  of 
existence  and  the  rebel  delights  which  have  their  own  laws 
and  '  nature '  for  an  applauding  mother.  "Radiant  Alps  rose 
in  his  eyes,  and  the  morning  iDorn  in  the  night :  suns  that 
from  mountain  and  valley,  over  sea  and  desert,  called  on  all 
earth  to  witness  their  death.  The  magnificence  of  the  con- 
tempt of  humanity  posed  before  him  superbly  satanesque, 
grand  as  thunder  among  the  crags  :  and  it  was  not  a  sensual 
cry  that  summoned  him  from  his  pedlar  labours,  pack  on 
back  along  the  level  road,  to  live  and  breathe  deep, 
gloriously  mated:  Renee  kindled  his  romantic  spirit,  and 
could  strike  the  feeling  into  him  that  to  be  proud  of  his 
possession  of  her  was  to  conquer  the  fretful  vanity  to  possess. 
She  was  not  a  woman  of  wiles  and  lures. 

Once  or  twice  she  consulted  her  watch :  but  as  she  pro- 
fessed to  have  no  hunger,  Beauchamp's  entreaty  to  her  to 
stay  prevailed,  and  the  subtle  form  of  compliment  to  his 
knightly  manliness  in  her  remaining  with  him,  gave  him  a 
new  sense  of  pleasure  that  hung  round  her  companionable 
conversation,  deepening  the  meaning  of  the  words,  or  some- 
times contrasting  the  sweet  surface  commonplace  with  the 
undercurrent  of  strangeness  in  their  hearts,  and  the  real  fcy 
'^of  a  tragic  position.  Her  musical  volubility  flowed  to 
entrance  and  divert  him,  as  it  did. 


368  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Suddenly  Beauchamp  glanced  upward. 
Renee  turned  from  a  startled  contemplation  of  his  frown, 
and  beheld  Mrs.  Rosamund  Culling  in  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

A  LAME  VICTORY. 


The  intruder  was  not  a  person  that  had  power  to  divide 
them ;  yet  she  came  between  their  hearts  with  a  touch  of 
steel. 

"  I  am  here  in  obedience  to  your  commands  in  your  tele- 
gram of  this  evening,"  Rosamund  replied  to  Bcauchamp's 
hard  stare  at  hei  ;  she  courteously  spoke  French,  and 
acquitted  herself  demurely  of  a  bow  to  the  lady  present. 

Renee  withdrew  her  serious  eyes  from  Beauchamp.  She 
rose  and  acknowledged  the  bow. 

"  It  is  rny  first  visit  to  England,  madanio." 

"  I  could  have  desired,  Madame  la  marquise,  more  agree- 
able weather  for  you." 

"  My  friends  in  England  will  dispel  the  bad  weather  for 
me,  madame  ;"  Renee  smiled  softly  :  "  I  have  been  studying 
my  French-English  phrase-book,  that  1  may  learn  how 
dialogues  are  conducted  in  your  country  to  lead  to  certain 
ceremonies  when  old  friends  meet,  and  without  my  book  1 
am  at  fault  I  am  longing  to  be  embraced  by  you  ....  if 
it  will  not  be  offending  your  rules  r'" 

Rosamund  succumbed  to  the  seductive  woman,  whose 
gentle  tooth  bit  through  her  tutored  simplicity  of  manner 
and  natural  ^raciousness,  administering  its  reproof,  and 
eluding  a  retoi't  or  an  excuse. 

She  gave  the  embrace.  In  doing  so  she  fell  upon  her  con- 
scious awkwardness  for  an  expression  of  reserve  that  should 
be  as  good  as  irony  for  irony,  though  where  Madame  de 
Ronaillout's  irony  lay,  or  whether  it  was  irony  at  all,  our 
excellent  English  dame  could  not  have  stated,  after  the 
feeling  of  indignant  pruderj^  responding  to  it  so  guiltily  had 
subsided. 

Beanchamp   asked  her  if  she  had  brought  servants  with 


A  LAME  VICTORY,  369 

her ;  and  it  gratified  lier  to  see  that  he  was  no  actor  fitted  to 
carry  a  scene  through  in  virtue's  name  and  vice's  mask  with 
this  actress. 

She  replied,  "  I  have  brought  a  man  and  a  maid-servant. 
The  establishment  will  be  in  town  the  day  after  to-morrow, 
in  time  for  my  lord's  return  from  the  Castle." 

"  You  can  have  them  up  to-mori'ow  morning." 

"  I  could,"  Rosamund  admitted  the  possibility.  Her 
idolatry  of  him  was  tried  on  hearing  him  press  the  hospitality 
of  the  house  upon  Madame  de  Rouaillout,  and  observing  the 
lady's  transparent  feint  of  a  reluctant  yielding.  For  the 
voluble  Frenchwoman  scarcely  found  a  word  to  utter :  she 
protested  languidly  that  she  preferred  the  iixdependence  of 
her  hotel,  and  fluttered  a  singular  look  at  him,  as  if  over- 
come by  his  vehement  determination  to  have  her  in  the 
house.  Undoubtedly  she  had  a  taking  face  and  style.  His 
infatuation,  nevertheless,  appeared  to  Rosamund  utter 
dementedness,  considering  this  woman's  position,  and  Cecilia 
Halkett's  beauty  and  wealth,  and  that  the  house  was  no 
longer  at  his  disposal.  He  was  really  distracted,  to  judge 
by  his  forehead,  or  else  he  was  over-acting  his  part. 

The  absence  of  a  cook  in  the  house,  Rosamund  remarked, 
must  prevent  her  from  seconding  Captain  Beauchamp's 
invitation. 

He  turned  on  her  witheringly.  "  The  telegraph  will  do 
that.  You're  in  London  ;  cooks  can  be  had  by  dozens. 
Madame  de  Rouaillout  is  alone  here  ;  she  has  come  to  see  a 
little  of  England,  and  you  will  do  the  honours  of  the  house." 

"  M.  le  marquis  is  not  in  London  ?"  said  Rosamund,  dis- 
regarding the  dumb  imprecation  she  saw  on  Beauchamp's 
features. 

"  N"o,  madame,  my  husband  is  not  in  London,"  Renee 
rejoined,  collectedly. 

"  See  to  the  necessary  comforts  of  the  house  instantly," 
said  Beauchamp,  and  telling  Renee,  without  listening  to  her, 
that  he  had  to  issue  orders,  he  led  Rosamund,  who  was  out 
of  breath  at  the  effrontery  of  the  pair,  toward  the  door. 
"  Are  you  blind,  ma'am  ?  Have  you  gone  foolish  ?  What 
should  I  have  sent  for  you  for,  but  to  protect  her  ?  I  see 
yonr  mind ;  and  off  with  the  prude,  pray !  Mad  ame  will 
have  my  room  ;  clear  away  every  sign  of  me  there.  I  sleep 
out;  I  can  find  a  bed  anywhere.     And  bolt  and   chain  the 

2b 


370  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

house-door  to-night  against  Cecil  Baskelett ;  he  informs  me 
that  he  has  taken  possession." 

Rosamund's  countenance  had  become  less  austere. 
"Captain  Baskelett!"  she  exclaimed,  leaning  to  Beau- 
champ's  views  on  the  side  of  her  animosity  to  Cecil ;  "  he 
has  been  promised  by  his  uncle  the  use  of  a  set  of  rooms 
during  the  year,  when  the  mistress  of  the  house  is  not 
in  occupation.  I  stipulated  expressly  that  he  was  to  see 
you  and  suit  himself  to  your  convenience,  and  to  let  me  hear 
that  you  and  he  had  agi-eed  to  an  arrangement,  before  he 
entered  the  house.  He  has  no  right  to  be  here,  and  I  shall 
have  no  hesitation  in  locking  him  out." 

Beau  champ  bade  her  go,  and  not  be  away  more  thau  five 
minutes ;  and  then  he  would  drive  to  the  hotel  for  the 
luggage. 

She  scanned  him  for  a  look  of  ingenuousness  that  might 
be  trusted,  and  laughed  in  her  heart  at  her  credulity  for 
expecting  it  of  a  man  in  such  a  case.  She  saw  Rcnee 
sitting  stonily,  too  proudly  self-respecting  to  put  on  a  mask 
of  flippant  ease.  These  lovers  might  be  accomplices  in 
deceiving  her;  they  were  not  liappy  ones,  and  that  appeared 
to  her  to  be  s6me  assurance  that  she  did  well  in  obeying 
him. 

Beaucliamp  closed  the  door  on  her.  He  walked  back  to 
Renee  with  a  thoughtful  air  that  was  consciously  acted  ;  his 
oTi]y  thought  being — now  she  knows  me  ! 

Renee  looked  up  at  him  once.  Her  eyes  were  nnaccusing, 
unquestioning. 

With  the  viohition  of  the  secresy  of  her  flight  she  had 
lost  her  initiative  and  her  intrepidity.  The  world  of  human 
eyes  glared  on  her  through  the  windows  of  the  two  she  had 
been  exposed  to,  paralyzing  her  brain  and  caging  her  spirit 
of  revolt.  That  keen  wakefulness  of  her  self-defensive 
social  instinct  helped  her  to  an  understanding  of  her  lover's 
plan  to  preserve  her  reputation,  or  rather  t6  give  her  a 
corner  of  retreat  in  shielding  the  worthless  thing — twice 
detested  as  her  cloak  of  slavery  coming  from  him !  She 
comprehended  no  more.  She  was  a  house  of  nerves  crowd- 
ing in  against  her  soul  like  fiery  thorns,  and  had  no  space 
within  her  torture  for  a  sensation  of  gratitude  or  suspicion ; 
but  feeling  herself  hurried  along  at  lightning  speed  to  some 
dreadful  shoc\',  her  witless  imagination   apprehended  it  in 


A  LAME  VICTORY,  371 

his  voice:  not  what  he  might  say,  only  the  sound.  She 
feared  to  hear  him  speak,  as  the  shrinking  ear  fears  a 
.thunder  at  the  cavity  ;  yet  suspense  was  worse  than  the 
downward-driving  silence. 

The  pang  struck  her  when  he  uttered  some  words  about 
Mrs.  Culling,  and  protection,  and  Roland. 
She  thanked  him. 

So  have  common  executioners  been  thanked  by  queenly 
ladies  bariug  their  necks  to  the  axe. 

He  called  up  the  pain  he  suffered  to  vindicate  him;  and  it 
was  really  an  agony  of  a  man  torn  to  pieces. 

"I  have  done  the  best." 

This  dogged  and  stupid  piece  of  speech  was  pitiable  to 
hear  from  Nevil  Beauchamp. 

"You  think  so  ?"  said  she  ;  and  her  glass-like  voice  rang 
a  tremor  in  its  mildness  that  swelled  through  him  on  the 
plain  submissive  note,  which  was  more  assent  than  ques- 
tion. 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.  I  believe  it.  I  see  it.  At  least  I 
hope  so." 

"  We  are  chiefly  led  by  hope,"  said  Renee. 

"At  least,  if  not !"  Beauchamp  cried.     "And  it's  not  too 

late.      I  have  no  right .      I  do  what   I  can.     I  am  at 

your  mercy.  Judge  me  later.  If  I  am  ever  to  know  what 
happiness  is,  it  will  be  with  you.  It's  not  too  late  either 
w^av.  There  is  Roland — my  brother  as  much  as  if  you  w^ere 
my  wiie ! 

He  begged  her  to  let  him  have  Roland's  exact  address. 

She  named  the  regiment,  the  corps  d'armee,  the  postal 
town,  and  the  department. 

"  Roland  will  come  at  a  signal,"  he  pursued ;  "  we  are 
not  bound  to  consult  others." 

Renee  formed  the  French  word  of  '  we  '  on  her  tongue. 

He  talked  of  Roland  and  Roland,  his  affection  for  him  as 
a  brother  and  as  a  friend,  and  Roland's  love  of  them  both. 

"  It  is  true,"  said  Renee. 

**"W"e  owe  him  this  ;  he  represents  your  father." 

"  All  that  you  say  is  true,  my  iriend." 

"  Thus,  yon  have  come  on  a  visit  to  madame,  your  old 
friend  here — oh  !  your  hand.      What  have  I  done  r"' 

Renee  motioned  her  hand  as  if  it  were  free  to  be  taken, 
and  smiled  faintly  to  make  light  of  it,  but  did  not  give  it. 

2b2 


372  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

"If  yon  liad  "been  widowed  !"  lie  broke  down  to  the  lover 
again. 

"  That  man  is  attached  to  the  remnant  of  his  life  :  [  could 
not  wish  him  dispossessed  of  it,"  said  Renee. 

"  Parted  !  who  parts  ns  ?     It's  for  a  night.     To-morrow  !" 

She  breathed  :   "  To-morrow." 

To  his  hearing  it  craved  an  answer.  He  had  none.  To 
talk  like  a  lover,  or  like  a  man  of  honour,  was  to  lie.  False- 
hood hemmed  him  in  to  the  narrowest  ring  that  ever  statue 
stood  on,  if  he  meant  to  be  stone. 

"  That  woman  will  be  returning,"  he  muttered,  frowning 
at  the  vacant  door.  "  I  could  lay  out  my  whole  life  before 
your  eyes,  and  show  you  I  am  unchanged  in  my  love  of  you 
since  the  night  when  Roland  and  I  walked  on  the  Piaz- 
zetta  .  .  .  ." 

"Do  not  remind  me;  let  those  days  lie  black!"  A 
sympathetic  vision  of  her  maiden's  tears  on  the  night  of 
wonderful  moonlight  wlien,  as  it  seemed  to  her  now,  San 
Giorgio  stood  like  a  dark  prophet  of  her  present  abasement 
and  chastisement,  sprang  tears  of  a  dilferent  character,  and 
weak  as  she  was  with  her  soul's  fever  and  for  want  of  food, 
she  was  piteously  shaken.  She  said  with  some  calmness : 
"  It  is  useless  to  look  back.  I  have  no  reproaches  but  for 
myself.  Explain  nothing  to  me.  Things  that  are  not  com- 
prehended by  one  like  me  are  riddles  I  must  put  aside.  I 
know  where  I  am:  I  scarcely  know  more.  Here  is  madame.'" 

The  door  had  not  opened,  and  it  did  not  open  immediately. 

Beauchamp  had  time  to  sa}^ :  '•  Believe  in  me."  Even  that 
was  false  to  his  own  hearing,  and.  in  a  struggle  with  the 
painful  impression  of  insincerity-  which  was  denied  and 
scorned  by  his  impulse  to  fling  his  arms  round  her  and  have 
her  his  for  ever,  he  found  himself  deferentially  accepting 
her  brief  directions  concerning  her  boxes  at  the  hotel,  with 
Rosamund  Culling  to  witness. 

She  gave  him  her  hand. 

He  bowed  over  the  fingers.     "Until  to-morrow,  madame." 

"  Adieu  1"  said  Renee. 


THE  TWO  PASSIONS.  37*^ 

CHAPTER  XLIL 

THE     TWO     PASSIONS. 

The  foggy  February  night  refreshed  his  head,  and  the 
business  of  fetching  the  lus'gage  from  the  hotel — a  commis- 
sion that  necessitated  the  delivery  of  his  card  and  some  very 
commanding  language  —  kept  his  mind  in  order.  Subse- 
quently he  drove  to  his  cousin  Baskelett's  Club,  where  he 
left  a  short  note  to  say  the  house  was  engaged  for  the  night 
and  perhaps  a  week  further.  Concise,  but  sufficient:  and  he 
stated  a  hope  to  his  ctnisin  that  he  would  not  be  incon- 
venienced.    This  was  courteous. 

He  had  taken  a  bed  at  Renee's  hotel,  after  wresting  her 
boxes  from  the  vanquished  hotel  proprietor,  and  lay  there, 
hearing  the  clear  sound  of  every  little  sentence  of  hers  during 
the  absence  of  Rosamund  :  her  "  Adieu,''  and  the  strange 
"  Do  you  think  so  ?'"  and  ""  J  know  where  I  am;  I  scarcely  know 
more.''  Her  eyes  and  their  darker  lashes,  and  the  fitful  little 
sensitive  dimples  of  a  smile  without  joy,  came  with  her  voice, 
but  hardened  '"o  an  aspect  unlike  her.  Xot  a  word  could  he 
recover  of  what  slie  liad  spoken  before  Rosamund's  interven- 
tion. He  fancied  she  must  have  related  details  of  her  journey. 
Especially  there  must  have  been  mention,  he  thought,  of  her 
drive  to  the  station  from  Tourdcstelle ;  and  this  flashed  on 
him  the  scene  of  his  ride  to  the  chateau,  and  the  meeting  her 
on  the  road,  and  the  white  light  on  the  branching  river,  and 
all  that  was  Renee  in  the  spirit  of  the  place  she  had  aban- 
doned for  him,  believing  in  him.  She  had  proved  that  she 
believed  in  him.  What  in  the  name  of  sanity  had  been  the 
meaning  of  his  language  ?  and  what  was  it  between  them 
that  arrested  him  and  caused  him  to  mumble  absurdly  of 
'  doing  best,'  when  in  fact  he  was  her  bondman,  rejoiced  to 
be  so,  by  his  pledged  word  ?  and  when  she,  for  some  reason 
that  he  was  sure  she  had  stated,  though  he  could  recollect 
no  more  than  the  formless  hideousness  of  it,  was  debarred 
from  retui-ning  to  Tourdestelle  Y 

He  tossed  in  his  bed  as  over  a  furnace,  in  the  extremity  of 
perplexity  of  one  accustomed  to  think  himself  ever  demon- 
strably in    the    right,   and  now  with  his   whole  nature  in 


374  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

insurrection  against  that  legitimate  claim.  It  led  liim  to 
accuse  her  of  a  want  of  passionate  warmth,  in  her  not  having 
supplicated  and  upbraided  him — not  behaving  theatrically, 
in  tine,  as  the  ranting  pen  has  made  as  expect  of  emergent 
ladies  that  they  will  natui'ally  do.  Concerning  himself,  he 
thought  commendingly,  a  tear  would  have  overcome  him. 
She  had  not  wept.  The  kaleidoscope  was  shaken  in  his 
fragmentary  mind,  and  she  appeared  thrice  adorable  for  this 
aoble  composure,  he  brutish. 

Conscience  and  reason  had  resolved  to  a  dead  weight  in 
him,  like  an  inanimate  force,  governing  his  acts  despite  the 
man,  while  he  was  with  Renee.  jSTow  his  wishes  and  waver- 
ings conjured  up  a  semblance  of  a  conscience  and  much 
reason  to  assure  him  that  he  had  done  foolishly  as  well  as 
unkindly,  most  unkindly  :  that  he  was  even  the  ghastly 
spectacle  of  a  creature  attempting  to  be  more  than  he  can 
be.  Are  we  never  to  embrace  our  inclinations  ?  Are  the 
laws  regulating  an  old  dry  man  like  his  teacher  and  guide  to 
be  the  same  for  the  young  and  vigoi-ous  ?  Is  a  good  gift  to 
be  refused  ?  And  this  was  his  first  love  !  The  brilliant 
Renee,  many-hued  as  a  tropic  bird  !  his  lady  of  shining 
grace,  with  lier  sole  fault  of  want  of  courage  devotedly 
amended  !  his  pupil,  he  might  say,  of  whom  he  had  foretold 
that  she  must  come  to  such  a  pass,  at  the  same  time  pie- 
fixing  his  fidelity.  And  he  was  handing  her  over  knowingly 
to  one  kind  of  wretchedness — ^^  son  aiiinnr,  mon  ami,"  shot 
through  him,  lighting  up  the  gulfs  of  a  mind  in  wreck  ; — and 
one  kind  of  happiness  could  certainly  be  promised  her! 

All  these  and  innumerable  other  handsome  pleadings  of 
the  simulacra  of  the  powers  he  had  set  up  to  rule,  were 
crushed  at  daybreak  by  the  realities  in  a  sense  of  weight 
that  pushed  him  mechanically  on.  He  telegraphed  to 
Roland,  and  mentally  gave  chase  to  the  message  to  recall  it. 
— The  slumberer  roused  in  darkness  by  the  relentless  insane- 
seeming  bell  which  hales  him  to  duty,  melts  at  the  charms 
of  sleep,  and  feels  that  logic  is  with  him  in  his  preference  of 
his  pillow  ;  but  the  tireless  revolving  w^orld  outside,  nature's 
pitiless  antagonist,  has  hung  one  of  its  balances  about  him, 
and  his  actions  are  directed  by  the  state  of  the  scales, 
wherein  duty  weighs  deep  and  desireability  swings  like  a 
pendant  doll :  so  he  throws  on  his  harness,  astounded,  till 


THE  TWO  PASSION'S.  375 

his  Mood  qnickens  with  work,  at  the  round  of  sacrifices 
demanded  of  nature  :  which  is  indeed  curious  considering 
what  we  are  taught  here  and  there  as  to  the  infallibility  of 
our  august  mother.  Well,  the  world  of  humanity  had  done 
this  for  Beauchamp.  His  afflicted  historian  is  compelled  to 
fling  his  net  among  prosaic  similitudes  for  an  illustration  of 
one  thus  degradedly  in  its  grip.  If  he  had  been  off  with 
his  love  like  the  rover  ! — why,  th*^n  the  ]Miise  would  have 
loosened  her  lap  like  May  showering  flower-buds,  and  we 
might  have  knocked  great  nature  up  from  her  sleep  to 
embellish  his  desperate  proceedings  with  hurricanes  to  be 
danced  over,  to  say  nothing  of  imitative  spheres  dashing  out 
into  hurly-burly  after  his  example. 

Conscious  rectitude,  too,  after  the  pattern  of  the  well- 
behaved  ^neas  quitting  the  fair  bosom  of  Carthage  in 
obedience  to  the  Gods,  for  an  example  to  his  Roman  progeny, 
might  have  stiffened  his  backbone  and  put  a  crown  upon 
his  brows.  It  happened  with  him  that  his  original  training 
rather  imposed  the  idea  that  he  was  a  figure  to  be  derided. 
The  approval  of  him  by  the  prudent  was  a  disgust,  and  by 
the  pious  tasteless.  He  had  not  any  consolation  in  reverting 
to  Dr.  Shrapnel's  heavy  puritanism.  On  the  contrary,  such 
a  general  proposition  as  that  of  the  sage  of  Bevisham  could 
not  for  a  moment  stand  against  the  pathetic  ■  special  case  of 
Renee  :  and  as  far  as  Beauchamp's  active  mind  went,  he  was 
for  demanding  that  Society  should  take  a  new  position  in 
morality,  considerably  broader,  and  adapted  to  very  special 
cases. 

Nevertheless  he  was  hardly  grieved  in  missing  Renee  at 
Rosamund's  breakfast-table.  Rosamund  informed  him  that 
Madame  de  Rouaillout's  door  was  locked.  Her  particular 
news  for  him  was  of  a  disgraceful  alarum  raised  by  Captain 
B  iskelett  in  the  night,  to  obtain  admission  ;  and  of  an  inter- 
view she  had  with  him  in  the  early  morning,  when  he  sub- 
jected her  to  great  insolence.  Beauchamp's  attention  was 
drawn  to  her  repetition  of  the  phrase  'mistress  of  the 
house.'  However,  she  did  him  justice  in  regard  to  Renee, 
and  thoroughly  entered  into  the  fiction  of  Renee's  visit  to 
her  as  her  guest :  he  passed  over  everything  else. 

To  stop  the  mouth  of  a  scandal-monger,  he  drove  full 
speed  to  Cecil's  Club,  where  he  hoard  that  the  captain  had 


376  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

breakfasted  and  had  just  departed  for  Romfrey  Castle.  He 
followed  to  the  station.  The  train  had  started.  So  mis- 
chief was  rolling  in  that  direction. 

Late  at  night  Rosamund  was  allowed  to  enter  the  chill 
unlighted  chamber,  where  the  unhappy  lady  had  been  lying 
for  hours  in  the  gloom  of  a  London  Winter's  daylight  and 
gaslight. 

"  Madame  de  Rouaillout  is  indisposed  with  headache," 
was  her  report  to  Beauchamp. 

The  conventional  phraseology  appeased  him,  though  he 
saw  his  grief  behind  it. 

Presently  he  asked  if  Renee  had  taken  food. 

"No  :  you  know  what  a  headache  is,"  Rosamund  replied. 

It  is  true  that  we  do  not  cai'e  to  eat  when  we  are  in  pain. 

He  asked  if  she  looked  ill. 

"  She  will  not  have  lights  in  the  room,"  said  Rosamund. 

Piecemeal  he  gained  the  picture  of  Renee  in  an  image  of 
the  death  within  which  welcomed  a  death  without  tei-rors. 

Rosamund  was  impatient  with  him  for  speaking  of  medical 
aid.  These  men  !  She  remarked  very  honestly  :  "  Oh,  no  ; 
doctors  ai-e  not  needed." 

"  Has  she  mentioned  me  ?'* 

"Not  once." 

"  Why  do  you  swing  your  watch-chain,  ma'am  ?"  cried 
Beauchamp,  bounding  off  his  chair. 

He  reproached  her  with  either  pretending  to  indiiference 
or  feeling  it ;  and  then  insisted  on  his  privilege  of  going 
up-stairs — accompanied  by  her,  of  coui-se  ;  and  then  it  was 
to  be  only  to  the  door ;  then  an  answer  to  a  message  was  to 
satisfy  him. 

"  Any  message  would  trouble  her :  what  message  would 
you  send  ?"  Rosamund  asked  him. 

The  weighty  and  the  trivial  contended ;  no  fitting  message 
could  be  though  1  of. 

"  You  are  unused  to  real  suffering — that  is  for  women  ! — 
and  want  to  be  doing  instead  of  enduring,"  said  Rosamund. 

She  was  beginning  to  put  faith  in  the  innocence  of  these 
two  mortally  sick  lovers.  Beauchamp's  outcries  against 
himself  gave  her  the  shadows  of  their  story.  He  stood  in 
tears — a  thing  to  see  to  believe  of  Nevil  Beauchamp;  and 
plainly  he  did  not  know  it,  or  else  he  would  have  taken  her 
advice  to  him  to  leave  the  house  at  an  hour  that  was  Ion? 


THE  TWO  PASSIONS.  377 

past  midnigbt.  Her  method  for  inducing  him  to  go  was 
based  on  her  intimate  knowledge  of  him  :  she  made  as  if  to 
soothe  and  kiss  him  compassionately. 

In  the  morning  there  was  a  flying  word  from  Roland,  on 
his  way  to  England.  Rosamund  tempered  her  report  ol 
Renee  by  saying  of  her,  that  she  was  very  quiet.  He  turned 
to  the  window. 

"  Look,  what  a  climate  ours  is  !"  Beauchamp  abused  the 
persistent  fog.*'  "Dull,  cold,  no  sky,  a  horrible  air  to  breathe  ! 
This  is  what  she  has  come  to !     Has  she  spoken  of  me  yet  ?" 

"  Xo." 

*'  Is  she  dead  silent  ?" 

*'  She  answers,  if  T  speak  to  her." 

"I  believe,  ma'am,  said  Beauchamp,  "that  we  are  the 
coldest-hearted  people  in  Europe." 

Rosamund  did  not  defend  us,  or  the  fog.  Consequently 
nothing  was  left  for  him  to  abuse  but  himself.  In  that  she 
tried  to  moderate  him,  and  drew  forth  a  torrent  of  self- 
vituperation,  after  which  he  sank  into  the  speechless  misery 
he  had  been  evading ;  until  sophistical  fancy,  another  evo- 
lution of  his  nature,  persuaded  him  that  Roland,  seeing 
Renee,  would  for  love's  sake  be  friendly  to  them. 

"  I  should  have  told  you,  N^evil,  by  the  way,  that  the  earl 
is  dead,"  said  Rosamund. 

"  Her  brother  will  be  here  to-day;  he  can't  be  later  than 
the  evening,"  said  Beauchamp.  "Get  her  to  eat,  ma'am; 
you  must.     Command  her  to  eat.     This  terrible  starvation!" 

"  You  ate  nothing  yourself,  Xevil,  all  day  yesterday." 

He  surveyed  the  table.  "  You  have  your  cook  in  town, 
I  see.  Here's  a  breakfast  to  feed  twenty  hungry  families 
in  Spitalfields.  Where  does  the  mass  of  meat  go  ?  One 
excess  feeds  another.  You're  overdone  with  servants. 
Gluttony,  laziness,  and  pilfering  come  of  your  host  of  un- 
manageable footmen  and  maids;  you  stuff  them,  and  wonder 
they're  idle  and  immoral.  If — I  suppose  I  must  call  him 
the  earl  now,  or  Colonel  Halkett,  or  any  one  of  the  army  of 
rich  men,  hear  of  an  increase  of  the  income-tax,  or  some  poor 
wretch  hints  at  a  sliding  scale  of  taxation.^  they  yell  as  if 
they  were  thumb-screwed :  but  five  shillings  in  the  pound 
goes  to  the  kitchen  as  a  matter  of  course — to  pnff  those 
pompous  idiots  !wlnd  the  parsons  who  should  be  preaching 
against    this    sheer    waste    of   food    and   perversion   of   the 


378  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREEK. 

strengtli  of  the  nation,  as  a  public  sin,  are  maundering  about 
schism.  There's  another  idle  army  !  Then  we  have  artists, 
authors,  lawyers,  doctors — the  honourable  professions  !  all 
hanging  upon  wealth,  all  aping  the  rich,  and  all  bearing 
upon  laliour  !  it's  incubus  on  incubus.  In  point  of  fact,  the 
rider's  too  heavy  for  the  horse  in  England." 

He  began  to  nibble  at  bread. 

Rosamund  pushed  over  to  him  a  plate  of  the  celebrated 
Steynham  pie,  of  her  own  invention,  such  as  no  house  in  the 
county  of  Sussex  could  produce  or  imitate. 

"  What  would  you  have  the  parsons  do  ?"  she  said. 

"  Take  the  rich  by  the  throat  and  show  them  in  the 
kitchen-mirror  that  they're  swine  running  down  to  the  sea 
with  a  devil  in  them."  She  had  set  him  off  again,  but  she 
had  enticed  him  to  eating.  "  Pooh  !  it  has  all  been  said 
before.  ^Stones  are  easier  to  move  than  your  English.  May 
I  be  forgiven  for  saying  it  !  an  invasion  is  what  they  want 
to  bring  them  to  their  senses.  I'm  sick  of  the  work. 
Why  should  I  be  denied — am  I  to  kill  the  w^oman  I  love  that 
I  may  go  on  hammering  at  them  ?  Their  idea  of  liberty  is, 
an  evasion  of  public  duty.  -Dr.  Shrapnel's  right — it's  a 
money-logged  Island!  Men  like  the  Earl  of  Roinfiey,  who 
have  never  done  work  in  their  days  except  to  kill  bears  and 
birds,  I  say  they're  stifled  by  wealth  :  and  he  at  least  would 
have  made  an  Admiral  of  mark,  or  a  General :  not  of  much 
value,  but  useful  in  case  of  need.  But  he,  like  a  pretty 
woman,  was  under  no  obligation  to  contribute  more  than  an 
ornamental  j)erson  to  the  common  good.  As  to  that,  we 
count  him  by  tens  of  thousands  now,  and  his  footmen  and 
maids  by  hundreds  of  thousands.  The  rich  love  the  nation 
through  their  possessions  ;  otherwise  they  have  no  country. 
If  they  loved  the  country  they  would  care  for  the  people. 
Their  hearts  are  eaten  up  by  property.  I  am  bidden  to  hold 
my  tongue  because  T  have  no  knowledge.  When  men  who 
have  this  '  knowledge  '  will  go  down  to  the  people,  speak  to 
them,  consult  and  argue  with  them,  and  come  into  suitable 
relations  with  them — I  don't  say  of  lords  and  retainers,  but 
of  knowers  and  doers,  leaders  and  followers — out  of  con- 
sideration for  public  safety,  if  not  for  the  common  good,  I 
shall  hang  back  gladly  ;  though  I  won't  hear  misstatements. 
My  fault  is,  that  I  am  too  moderate.  I  should  respect 
myself  more  if  T  deserved  their  hatred.    This  flood  of  luxury. 


THE  TWO  PASSIONS.  379 

which  is,  as  Dr.  Shrapnel  says,  the  body's  drunkenness  and 
the  soul's  death,  cries  for  execration.  I'm  too  moderate. 
But  I  shall  quit  the  country  :  I've  no  place  here." 

Rosamund  ahemed.  "France,  jS'evil  ?  I  should  liardly 
think  that  France  would  please  you,  in  the  present  siu,te  of 
thinos  over  there." 

Half  cynically,  with  great  satisfaction,  she  had  watched 
him  fretting  at  the  savoury  morsels  of  her  pie  with  a  fork 
like  a  sparrow-beak  during  the  monologue  that  would  have 
been  so  dreary  to  her  but  for  her  appreciation  of  the  whole- 
some effect  of  the  letting  off  of  steam,  and  her  admiration 
of  the  fire  of  his  eyes.  After  finishing  his  plate  he  had  less 
the  look  of  a  ship  driving  on  to  reefs — one  of  his  images  of 
the  country.  He  called  for  claret  and  water,  sighing  as  he 
munched  bread  in  vast  portions,  evidently  conceiving  that 
to  eat  unbuttered  bread  was  to  abstain  from  luxury.  He 
praised  passingly  the  quality  of  the  bread.  It  came  from 
Steynham,  and  so  did  the  milk  and  cream,  the  butter, 
chicken  and  eggs.  He  was  good  enough  not  to  object  to 
the  expenditure  upon  the  transmission  of  the  accustomed 
dainties.  Altogether  the  gradual  act  of  nibbling  had  con- 
duced to  his  eating  remarkably  well — royally.  Rosamund's 
more  than  half-cynical  ideas  of  men,  and  her  custom  of 
wringing  unanimous  verdicts  from  a  jury  of  temporary 
impressions,  inclined  her  to  imagine  him  a  lover  that  had 
not  to  be  so  very  much  condoled  with,  and  a  poKtician  1  3S 
alarming  in  practice  than  in  theory: — somewhat  a  gentle- 
man of  domestic  tirades  on  politics  :  as  it  is  observed  of 
your  generous  young  Radical  of  birth-  and  fortune,  that  he 
will  become  on  the  old  high  road  to  a  round  Conservatism. 

He  pitched  one  of  the  morning  papers  to  the  floor  in  dis- 
orderly sheets,  muttering  :  "  So  they're  at  me  !" 

"  Is  Dr.  Shrapnel  better  ?"  she  asked.  "  I  hold  to  a  good 
appetite  as  a  sign  of  a  man's  recovery." 

Beauchamp  was  confronting  the  fog  at  the  window.  He 
swung  round :  "  Dr.  Shrapnel  is  better.  He  has  a  par- 
ticularly clever  young  female  cook." 

"Ah!  then  .  .   .  ." 

"  Yes,  then,  naturally  !  He  would  naturally  hasten  to 
recover  to  partake  of  the  viands,  ma'am." 

Rosamund  murmured  of  her  gladness  that  he  should  be 
able  to  enjoy  them. 


380  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  Orldly  enongh,  he  is  not  an  eater  of  meat,"  said  Bean. 
champ. 

"  A  vegetarian !" 

"  1  beg  YOU  not  to  mention  the  fact  to  my  lord.  Ton  see, 
you  yourself  can  scarcel}^  pardon  it.  He  does  not  exclude 
flesh  from  his  table.  Blackburn  Tuckham  dined  there 
once.  '  You  are  a  thorough  revolutionist,  Dr.  Shrapnel,'  he 
observed.  The  doctor  does  not  exclude  wine,  but  he  does 
not  drink  it.  Poor  Tuckham  went  away  entirely  opposed 
to  a  Radical  he  could  not  even  meet  as  a  boonfellow.  1 
begged  him  not  to  mention  the  circumstances,  as  I  have 
begged  you.  He  pledged  me  his  word  to  that  effect 
solemnly;  he  correctly  felt  that  if  the  truth  were  known, 
there  Avould  be  further  cause  for  the  reprobation  of  the  man 
who  had  been  his  host." 

"  And  that  jioor  girl,  Nevil  ?" 

"Miss  Denham  ?  She  contracted  the  habit  of  eating 
meat  at  school,  and  drinking  wine  in  Paris,  and  continues 
it,  occasionally.  ISTow  run  up-stairs.  Insistonfood.  Inform 
Madame  de  Rouaillout  that  her  brother  M.  le  comte  de 
Croisnel  will  soon  be  here,  and  should  not  lind  her  ill.  Talk 
to  her  as  you  women  can  talk.  Keep  the  blinds  down  in 
liorroom;  light  a  dozen  wax-candles.  Tell  her  I  have  no 
thought  but  of  her.  It's  a  lie:  of  no  woman  but  of  her: 
that  you  may  say.  But  that  you  can't  say.  You  can  say  I 
am  devoted — ha,  what  stuff  !  I've  only  to  open  my  mouth ! 
— say  nothing  of  me  :  let  her  think  the  worst — unless  it 
comes  to  a  question  of  her  life  :  then  be  a  merciful  good 
woman  .  .  .  ."  He  squeezed  her  fingers,  communicating  his 
muscular  tremble  to  her  sensitive  woman's  frame,  and  elec- 
trically convincing  her  that  he  was  a  lover. 

She  went  up-stairs.  In  ten  minutes  she  descended,  and 
found  him  pacing  up  and  down  the  hall.  "  Madame  de 
Rouaillout  is  nmch  the  same,"  she  said.  He  nodded,  looked 
up  the  stairs,  and  about  for  his  hat  and  gloves,  drew  on  the 
gloves,  fixed  the  buttons,  blinked  at  his  watch,  and  settled 
his  hat  as  he  was  accustomed  to  wear  it,  all  veiy  methodi- 
cally, and  talking  rapidly,  but  except  for  certain  precise 
directions,  which  were  not  needed  by  so  careful  a  house- 
keeper and  nurse  as  Rosamund  was  known  to  be,  she  could 
not  catch  a  w^ord  of  meaning.  He  had  some  appointment,  it 
seemed  ;  perhaps  he  was  off  for  a  doctor — a  fresh  instance 


THE  TWO  PASSIONS.  381 

of  his  masculine  incapacity  for  patient  endurance.  After 
opening  the  house-door,  and  returning  to  the  foot  of  the 
stairs,  listening  and  sighing,  he  disappeared. 

It  struck  her  that  he  was  trying  to  be  two  men  at  once. 

The  litter  of  newspaper  sheets  in  the  morning-room 
brought  his  exclamation  to  her  mind:  "  Thev'i^e  at  me  !" 
Her  eyes  ran  down  the  columns,  and  were  seized  by  the 
print  of  his  name  in  large  type.  A  leading  article  was 
devoted  to  Commander  Beauchamp's  recent  speech  delivered 
in  the  great  manufacturing  town  of  Gunningham,  at  a  meet- 
ing under  the  presidency  of  the  mayor,  and  liis  replies  to 
particular  questions  addressed  to  him ;  one  being,  what  ri^-ht 
did  he  conceive  himself  to  have  to  wear  the  Sovereigns 
uniform  in  professing  Republican  opinions  ?  Rosamund 
winced  for  her  darling  during  her  first  perusal  of  the  article. 
It  was  of  the  sarcastically-caressing  kind,  masterly  in  ease 
of  style,  as  the  flourish  of  the  executioner  well  may  be  with 
poor  Bare-back  hung  up  to  a  leisurely  administration  of  the 
scourge.  An  allusion  to  '  Jack  on  shore  '  almost  persuaded 
her  that  his  uncle  Everard  had  inspired  the  writer  of  the 
article.  Beauchamp's  reply  to  the  question  of  his  loyalty 
was  not  quoted :  he  was,  however,  complimented  on  his 
frankness.  At  the  same  time  he  was  assured  that  his  error 
lay  in  a  too  great  proneness  to  make  distinctions,  and  that 
there  was  no  distinction  between  sovereign  and  country  in  a 
loyal  and  contented  land,  which  could  thank  him  for  gallant 
services  in  war,  while  taking  him  for  the  solitary  example  to 
be  cited  at  the  present  period  of  the  evils  of  a  comparatively 
long  peace.  '  Doubtless  the  tedium  of  such  a  state  to  a  man 
of  the  temperament  of  the  gallant  commander,'  (tc, — the 
termination  of  the  article  was  indulgent.  Rosamund  re- 
curred to  the  final  paragraph  for  comfort,  and  though  she 
loved  Beau  champ,  the  test  of  her  representative  feminine 
sentiment  regarding  his  political  career,  when  personal  feel- 
ing on  his  behalf  had  subsided,  was,  that  the  writer  of  the 
article  must  hav3  received  an  intimation  to  deal  both  smai-tly 
and  forbearingly  with  the  offender :  and  from  whom  but  her 
lord  ?  Her  notions  of  the  conduct  of  the  Press  were  primi- 
tive. In  a  summary  of  the  article  Beauchamp  v>-as  ti-eated 
as  naughty  boy,  formerly  brave  boy,  and  likely  by-and-by  to 
be  good  boy.  Her  secret  heart  would  have  spoken  similarly, 
with  more  emphasis  on  the  flattering  terms. 


382  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

A  telegram  arrived  from  her  lord.  She  was  bidden  to 
have  the  house  clear  for  him  by  noon  of  the  next  day. 

How  could  that  be  done  ? 

But  to  write  blankly  to  inform  the  Earl  of  Eomfrey  that 
he  was  excluded  from  his  own  house  was  another  impossi- 
bility. 

"  Hateful  man !"  she  apostrophized  Captain  Baskelett,  and 
sat  down,  supporting  her  chin  in  a  prolonged  meditation. 

The  card  of  a  French  lady,  bearing  the  name  of  Madame 
d'Auffray,  was  handed  to  her. 

Beauchamp  had  gone  off  to  his  friend  Lydiard,  to  fortify 
himself  in  his  resolve  to  reply  to  that  newspaper  article  by 
eliciting  counsel  to  the  contrary.  Phrase  by  phrase  he  fouL'-ht 
through  the  first  half  of  his  composition  of  the  reply  a^aiust 
Lydiard,  yielding  to  him  on  a  point  or  two  of  literary  judge- 
ment, only  the  more  vehemently  to  maintain  his  ideas  of 
discretion,  which  were,  that  he  would  not  take  shelter  behind 
a  single  subterfuge  ;  that  he  would  try  this  question  nakedly, 
though  he  should  stand  alone ;  that  he  would  stake  his  posi- 
tion on  it,  and  establish  his  right  to  speak  his  opinions :  and 
as  for  unseasonable  times,  he  protested  it  was  the  crv  of  a 
gorged  middle-class,  frightened  of  further  action,  and  making 
snug  with  compromise.  Would  it  be  a  seasonable  time  when 
there  was  uproar  ?  Then  it  would  be  a  time  to  be  silent  on 
such  themes  :  they  could  be  discussed  calmly  now,  and  with- 
out danger ;  and  whether  he  was  hunted  or  not:,  he  cared 
nothing.  He  declined  to  consider  the  peculiar  nature  of 
Englishmen:  they  must  hear  truth  or  perish.  They  have  to 
learn  that  in  these  days  their  minds  must  move  them,  if 
they  would  not  be  out  of  the  race ;  the  fireside  shovel  will  do 
it  no  longer.  They  have  one  glory — their  political  advance- 
ment, and  it  allows  of  no  standing  still. 

Knowing  the  difliculty  once  afflicting  Beauchamp  in  the 
art  of  speaking  on  politics  tersely,  Lydiard  was  rather 
astonished  at  his  well-delivered  cannonade  ;  and  he  fancied 
that  his  modesty  had  been  displaced  by  the  new  acquire- 
meni: ;  not  knowing  the  nervous  fever  of  his  friend's  condi- 
tion, for  which  the  rattle  of  speech  was  balm,  and  contention 
a  native  element,  and  the  assumption  of  truth  a  necessity. 
Beauchamp  hugged  his  politics  like  some  who  show  their 
love  of  the  pleasures  of  life  by  taking  to  them  angrily.     It 


THE  TWO  PASSIONS.  383 

was  all  lie  had:  lie  had  given  up  all  for  it.  He  forced 
Lydiard  to  lay  down  his  pen  and  walk  back  to  the  square 
with  him,  and  went  on  arguing,  interjecting,  sneering, 
thumping  the  old  country,  raising  and  oversetting  her, 
treating  her  alternately  like  a  disrespected  grandmother 
and  like  a  woman  anciently  beloved ;  as  a  dead  lump,  and 
as  a  garden  of  seeds  ;  reviewing  pi-ominent  political  men, 
laughing  at  the  dwarf-giants  ;  finally  casting  anchor  on  a 
Mechanics'  Institute  that  he  had  recently  heard  of,  where 
working  men  met  weekly  for  the  purpose  of  reading  the 
British  poets. 

"  That's  the  best  thing  I've  heard  of  late,"  he  said,  shak- 
ing Lydiard's  hand  on  the  door-steps. 

"  Ah  !  you're  Commander  Beauchamp  ;  I  think  I  know 
you.  I've  seen  you  on  a  platform,"  cried  a  fresh-faced  man 
in  decent  clothes,  halting  on  his  way  along  the  pavement ; 
"  and  if  you  w^ere  in  your  uniform,  you  damned  Republican 
dog  '  I'd  strip  you  with  my  own  hands,  for  the  disloyal 
scoundrel  you  are,  with  your  pimping  Republicanism  and 
capsizing  everything  in  a  country  like  Old  England.  It's 
the  cat-o'-nine-tails  you  want,  and  the  bosen  to  lay  on  ;  and 
I'd  do  it  myself.  And  mind  me,  when  next  I  catch  sight  of 
you  in  blue  and  gold  lace,  I'll  compel  you  to  show  cause  why 
you  wear  it,  and  prove  your  case,  or  else  I'll  make  a  Cupid 
of  you,  and  no  joke  about  it.  I  don't  pay  money  for  a  nin- 
compoop to  outrage  my  feelings  of  respect  and  loyalty,  when 
he's  in  my  pay,  d'ye  hear  ?  You're  in  my  pay  :  and  you  do 
your  duty,  or  I'll  kick  ye  out  of  it.  It's  no  empty  threat. 
You  look  out  for  your  next  public  speech,  if  it's  anywhere 
•within  forty  mile  of  London.     Get  along." 

With  a  scowl,  and  a  very  ugly  "yah!"  worthy  of  cannibal 
jaws,  the  man  passed  off. 

Beauchamp  kept  eye  on  him.  "  What  class  does  a  fellow 
like  that  come  of  ?" 

"  He's  a  harmless  enthusiast,"  said  Lydiard.  "  He  has 
been  reading  the  article,  and  has  got  excited  over  it." 

"  I  wish  I  had  the  fellow's  address."  Beauchamp  looked 
wistfully  at  Lydiard,  but  he  did  not  stimulate  the  generous 
offer  to  obtain  it  for  him.  Perhaps  it  was  as  well  to  forget 
the  fellow. 

"  You  see  thto  effect  of  those  articles,"  he  said. 


384 

"Ton  see  what  I  mean  by  unseasonable  times,"  Ljdiard 
retorted. 

"  He  didn't  talk  like  a  tradesman,"  Beanchamp  mused. 

"  He  may  be  one,  for  all  that.  It's  better  to  class  him  as 
an  enthusiast." 

*'  An  enthusiast !"  Beauchamp  stamped :  "  for  what  ?" 

"  For  the  existing  order  of  things  ;  for  his  beef  and  ale  ; 
for  the  titles  he  is  accustomed  to  read  in  the  papers.  You 
don't  study  your  countrymen." 

"  I'd  study  that  fellow,  if  I  had  the  chance." 

"  You  would  probably  find  him  one  of  the  emptiest,  with 
a  rather  worse  temper  than  most  of  them." 

Beauchamp  shook  Lydiard's  hand,  saying,  "The  widow?" 

"  There's  no  woman  like  her !" 

"  Well,  now  yon're  free — why  not  ?  I  think  I  put  one 
man  out  of  the  field." 

"  Too  early  !     Besides " 

*'  Repeat  that,  and  you  may  have  to  say  too  late.** 

"  When  shall  you  go  down  to  Bevisham  ?" 

"  When  ?  I  can't  tell  :  when  I've  gone  through  fire. 
There  never  was  a  home  for  me  like  the  cottage,  and  the  old 
man.  and  the  dear  good  girl — the  best  of  girls !  if  you  hadn't 
a  little  spoilt  her  with  your  philosophy  of  the  two  sides  of  a 
case." 

"  I've  not  given  her  the  brains." 

"  She's  always  doubtful  of  doing,  doubtful  of  action  :  she 
has  no  will.  So  she  is  fatalistic,  and  an  argument  between 
us  ends  in  her  submitting,  as  if  she  must  submit  to  me, 
because  I'm  overbearing,  instead  of  accepting  the  fact." 

"  She  feels  your  influence." 

"  She's  against  the  publication  of  The  Dawn — for  the 
present.  It's  an  'unseasonable  time.'  I  argue  with  her:  I 
don't  get  hold  of  her  mind  a  bit ;  but  at  last  she  says,  '  very 
well.'     She  has  your  head." 

And  you  have  her  heart,  Lydiard  could  have  rejoined. 

They  said  good  bye,  neither  of  them  aware  of  the  other's 
task  of  endurance. 

As  they  were  parting,  Beauchamp  perceived  Ms  old  com- 
rade Jack  Wilmore  walking  past. 

"Jack!"  he  called. 

Wilmore  glanced  round.    "  How  do  you  do,  Beauchamp  ?*' 

"  Where  are  you  off  to,  Jack  ?" 


THE  TWO  PASSIONS.  385 

'*  Down  to  the  Admiralty.     I'm  rather  in  a  hurry ;  1  have 

an  appointment." 

"  Can't  yon  stop  jnst  a  minnte  ?" 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't.     Good  morning.'* 

It  was  incredible  ;  but  this  old  friend,  the  simplest  heart 
alive,  retreated  Avithout  a  touch  of  his  hand,  and  with  a 
sorely  wounded  air. 

"  Tliat  newspaper  article  appears  to  have  been  generally 
read,"  Beaucham])  said  to  Lydiard,  who  answered: — 

"  The  article  did  not  put  the  idea  of  you  into  men's  minds, 
but  gave  tongue  to  it :  you  may  take  it  for  an  instance  of 
the  sagacity  of  the  Press." 

"  You  wouldn't  take  that  man  and  me  to  have  been  mess- 
mates for  years  !     Old  Jack  Wilmore  !     Don't  go,  Lydiard." 

Lydiard  declared  that  he  was  bound  to  go :  he  was  en- 
g-aged  to  read  Italian  for  an  hour  with  Mrs.  Wardour- 
Devereux. 

"  Then  go,  by  all  means,"  Beauchamp  dismissed  him. 

He  felt  as  if  he  had  held  a  review  of  his  friends  and 
enemies  on  the  door-step,  and  found  them  of  one  colour.  If 
it  was  an  accident  befalling  him  in  a  London  square  during 
a  space  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  what  of  the  sentiments  of 
universal  England  ?  Lady  Barbara's  elopement  with  Lord 
Alfred  last  year  did  not  rouse  much  execration;  hardly 
worse  than  gossip  and  compassion.  Beauchamp  drank  a 
great  deal  of  bitterness  from  his  reflections.  They  who  pro- 
voke huge  battles,  and  gain  but  lame  victories  over  them- 
selves, insensibly  harden  to  the  habit  of  distilling  sour 
thoughts  from  their  mischances  and  from  most  occurrences. 
So  does  the  world  they  combat  win  on  them. 

'  For,'  says  Dr.  Shrapnel,  '  the  world  and  nature,  which 
are  opposed  in  relation  to  our  vital  interests,  each  agrees  to 
demand  of  us  a  perfect  victory,  on  pain  otherwise  of  proving 
it  a  stage  performance ;  and  the  victory  over  the  world,  as 
over  nature,  is  over  self  :  and  this  victory  lies  in  yielding 
perpetual  service  to  the  w-orld,  and  none  to  nature :  for  the 
world  has  to  be  wrought  out,  nature  to  be  subdued.* 

The  interior  of  the  house  was  like  a  change  of  elements  to 
Beauchamp.  He  had  never  before  said  to  himself,  "  I  have 
done  my  best,  and  I  am  beaten  !"     Outside  of  it,  his  native 

2o 


386 

pngnacit J  had  been  stimulated ;  but  bere,  witbin  tbe  walla 
wbere  Renee  lay  silently  breatbing,  barely  breatbing,  it 
migbt  be  dying,  be  was  overcome,  and  left  it  to  circumstance 
to  carry  bim  to  a  conclusion.  He  went  up-stairs  to  tbe 
drawing-room,  wbere  be  bebeld  Madame  d'Auffray  in  con- 
versation witb  Rosamund. 

"  I  was  assured  by  Madame  la  comtesse  tbat  I  sbould  see 
you  to-day,"  tbe  Frencb  lady  said  as  she  swam  to  meet  bim ; 
"  it  is  a  real  pleasure  :"  and  pressing  bis  band  sbe  continued, 
"but  I  fear  you  will  be  disappointed  of  seeing  my  sister. 
Sbe  would  rasbly  try  your  climate  at  its  worst  period. 
Believe  me,  I  do  not  join  in  decrying  it,  except  on  ber 
account :  I  could  bave  forewarned  ber  of  an  Englisb  Winter 
and  early  Spring.  You  know  ber  impetuosity  ;  suddenly  sbe 
decided  on  accepting  tbe  invitation  of  Madame  la  comtesse ; 
and  tbougb  I  bave  no  fears  of  ber  bealtb,  sbe  is  at  present  a 
victim  of  tbe  inclement  weatber." 

"  You  bave  seen  ber,  madame  ?"  said  Beaucbamp,  So 
well  bad  tbe  clever  lady  played  tbe  dupe  tbat  be  forgot 
tbere  was  a  part  for  bim  to  play.  Even  the  acquiescence  of 
Rosamund  in  the  Htle  of  countess  bewildered  bim. 

"  Madame  d'Aufi'iay  has  been  sitting  for  an  hour  witb 
Madame  de  Rouaillout,"  said  Rosamund. 

He  spoke  of  Roland's  coming. 

"Ah?"  said  Madame  D'Aufiray,  and  turned  to  Rosamund: 
"  you  bave  determined  to  surprise  us  :  then  you  will  bave  a 
gathering  of  tbe  whole  family  in  your  hospitable  house, 
Madame  la  comtesse." 

"  If  M.  le  marquis  will  do  it  that  honour,  madame." 

"  My  brother  is  in  London,"  Madame  d'Auffray  said  to 
Beaucbamp. 

Tbe  shattering  blow  was  merited  by  one  who  could  not 
rejoice  tbat  be  bad  acted  rigbtlj. 


THE  EAEL  Al.'D  THE  COUNTESS.  387 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 

THE  EAEL  OF  EOMFREY  AND  THE  COUNTESS. 

An  extraordinary  telegraphic  message,  followed  bj  a  still 
more  extraordinary  letter  the  next  morning,  from  Rosamund 
Culling,  all  but  interdicted  the  immediate  occupation  of  his 
house  in  town  to  Everard,  now  Earl  of  Romfrey.  She 
begged  him  briefly  not  to  come  until  after  the  funeral,  and 
proposed  to  give  him  good  reasons  for  her  request  at  their 
meeting.  ■' I  repeat,  I  pledge  myself  to  satisfy  you  on  this 
point,"  she  wrote.  Her  tone  was  that  of  one  of  your  heroic 
women  of  history  refusing  to  surrender  a  fortress. 

Everard's  wrath  was  ever  of  a  complexion  that  could  suii'er 
postponements  without  his  having  to  fear  an  abatement  of  it. 
He  had  no  business  to  transact  in  London,  and  he  had  much 
at  the  Castle,  so  he  yielded  himself  up  to  his  new  sensations, 
which  are  not  commonly  the  portion  of  gentlemen  of  his 
years.  He  anticipated  that  N^evil  would  at  least  come  down 
to  the  funeral,  but  there  was  no  appearance  of  him,  nor  a 
word  to  excuse  his  absence.  Cecil  was  his  only  sapportei- 
They  walked  together  between  the  double  ranks  of  bare  polls 
of  the  tenantry  and  peasantry,  resembling  in  a  fashion  old 
Froissart  engravings  the  earl  used  to  dote  on  in  his  boyhood, 
representing  bodies  of  manacled  citizens,  whose  humbled 
heads  looked  like  nuts  to  be  cracked,  outside  the  gates  of 
captared  French  towns,  awaiting  the  disposition  of  their 
conqueror,  with  his  banner  above  him  and  prancing  knights 
around.  That  was  a  glory  of  the  past.  He  had  no  successor. 
The  thought  was  chilling ;  the  solitariness  of  childlessness 
to  an  aged  man,  chief  of  a  most  ancient  and  martial  House, 
and  proud  of  his  blood,  gave  him  the  statue's  outlook  on  a 
desert,  and  made  him  feel  that  he  was  no  more  than  a  whirl 
of  the  dust,  settling  to  the  dust.  He  listened  to  the  parson 
curiously  and  consentingly.  We  are  ashes.  Ten  centuries 
had  come  to  an  end  in  him  to  prove  the  formula  correct. 
The  chronicle  of  the  House  would  state  that  the  last  Earl 
of  Romfrey  left  no  heir. 

Cecil  was  a  fine  figure  walking  beside  him.  Measured  by 
feet,  he  might  be  a  worthy  holder  of  great  lands.     But  so 

2c2 


388  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

heartily  did  tlie  earl  despise  this  nephew  that  he  never 
thought  of  trying  strength  with  the  fellow,  and  hardly  cai'ed 
to  know  what  his  value  was,  beyond  his  immediate  uses  as 
an  instrument  to  strike  with.  Beaucharap  of  Romfrey  had 
been  his  dream,  not  Baskelett:  and  it  inci-eased  his  disgust 
of  Beauchamp  that  Baskelett  should  step  forward  as  the 
man.  No  doubt  Cecil  would  hunt  the  county  famously  :  he 
would  preserve  game  with  the  sleepless  eye  of  a  General  of 
the  Jesuits.     These  things  were  to  be  considered. 

Two  days  after  the  funeral  Lord  RoniiVey  proceeded  to 
London.  He  was  met  at  the  station  b}'-  Rosamund,  and 
informed  that  his  house  was  not  yet  vacated  by  the  French 
family. 

"  And  where  have  you  arranged  for  me  t*^  go,  ma'am  ?"  he 
asked  her,  complacently. 

She  named  an  hotel  where  she  had  taken  rooms  for  him. 

He  nodded,  and  was  driven  to  the  hotel,  saying  little  on 
the  road. 

As  she  expected,  he  was  heavily  armed  against  her  and 
Nevil. 

"  You're  the  slave  of  the  fellow,  ma'am.  You  are  so 
infatuated  that  you  second  his  amours,  in  my  house.  I  must 
wait  fur  a  clearance,  it  seems." 

He  cast  a  comical  glance  of  disapprobation  on  the  fittings 
of  the  hotel  apartment,  abhorring  gilt. 

*'They  leave  us  the  day  after  to-morrow,"  said  Rosamund, 
out  of  breath  with  nervousness  at  the  commencement  of  the 
fray,  and  skipping  over  the  opening  ground  of  a  boM  state- 
ment of  facts.  "  Madame  de  Rouaillout  has  been  unwell. 
She  is  not  yet  recovered  ;  she  has  just  risen.  Her  sister-in- 
law  has  nursed  her.  Her  husband  seems  much  broken  in 
health  ;  he  is  perfect  on  the  points  of  courtesy." 

"  That  is  lucky,  ma'am." 

"  Her  brother,  Nevil's  comrade  in  the  war,  was  there 
also." 

"  Who  came  first  ?" 

"My  lord,  you  have  only  heard  Captain  Baskelett's  ver- 
sion of  the  story.  She  has  been  my  guest  since  the  first  day 
of  her  landing  in  England.  There  cannot  possibly  be  an 
imputation  on  her." 

"  Ma'am,  if  her  husband  manages  to  be  satisfied,  what  on 
earth  have  I  to  do  with  it  ?" 


THE  EAEL  AND  THE  COUNTESS.  389 

"  I  am  tTiinkiTig  of  T^evil,  my  lord." 

"  You're  never  thinking  of  any  one  else,  ma'am." 

"  He  sleeps  liere,  at  this  hotel.  He  left  the  house  to 
Madame  de  Roaaillout.     I  bear  witness  to  that." 

"You  two  se  'in  to  have  made  your  preparations  to  stand 
a  criminal  trial." 

"  It  is  pure  truth,  my  lord." 

"  Do  you  tike  me  to  be  anxious  about  the  fellow's  virtue?' 

"  She  is  a  lady  who  would  please  you." 

"A  scan  lal  in  my  house  does  not  please  me." 

"The  only  approach  to  a  scandal  was  made  by  Captain 
Baskelett." 

"  A  poor  do\^il  locked  out  of  his  bed  on  a  Winter's  night 
hullabaloos  with  pretty  good  reason.  I  suppose  lie  felt  the 
contrast." 

"  My  lord,  this  lady  did  me  the  honour  to  come  to  me  on  a 
visit.  I  have  not  previously  presumed  to  entertain  a  friend. 
She  probably  formed  no  estimate  of  my  exact  position.'' 

The  earl  Avith  a  gesture  implied  Rosamund's  privilege  to 
act  the  hostess  to  friends. 

"  You  invited  her  r"  he  said. 

"  That  is,  I  had  told  her  I  hoped  she  would  come  to  Eng- 
land." 

"  She  expected  you  to  be  at  the  house  in  town  on  her 
arrival  ?" 

"  It  was  her  impulse  to  come." 

*'  She  came  alone  ?" 

"She  mar  have  desired  to  be  away  from  her  own  people 
for  a  time  :  there  may  have  been  domestic  differences.  These 
cases  are  delicate." 

"  This  case  appears  to  have  been  so  delicate  that  you  had 
to  lock  out  a  fourth  party." 

"  It  is  in  lolicate  and  base  of  Captain  Baskelett  to  com- 
plain and  to  hint.  Nevil  had  to  submit  to  the  same;  and 
Ca|)tain  Baskelett  took  his  revenge  on  the  house-door  and 
the  bells.  The  house  was  visited  by  the  police  next  morn- 
ing-." 

"  Do  you  susjiect  him  to  have  known  yon  were  inside  the 
house  that  night  ?" 

She  could  not  say  so :  but  hatred  of  Cecil  urged  her  past 
the  bounds  of  habitual  reticence  to  put  it  to  her  lord  whethet 
he,  imagining  the  worst,  would  have  behaved  like  Cecil. 


390  BE AUCH amp's  CAilEER. 

To  this  he  did  not  reply,  but  remarked :  "I  am  sorry  he 
annoyed  you,  ma'am." 

"  It  is  not  the  annoyance  to  me ;  it  is  the  shocking,  the 
unmanly  insolence  to  a  lady,  and  a  foreign  lady." 

"  That's  a  matter  between  him  and  Xevil.    I  uphold  him." 

"  Then,  my  loi-d,  I  am  silent." 

Silent  she  remained  ;  but  Lord  Romfrey  was  also  silent : 
and  silence  being  a  weapon  of  offence  only  when  it  is  prac- 
tised by  one  out  of  two,  she  had  to  reflect  whether  in  speak- 
ing no  further  she  had  finished  her  business. 

"  Captain  Baskelett  stays  at  the  Castle  ?"  she  asked. 

"  He  likes  his  quarters  there." 

"  N^evil  could  not  go  down  to  Romfrey,  my  lord,  He  wa?» 
obliged  to  wait,  and  see,  and  help  me  to  entertain,  her 
brother  and  her  husband." 

"  Why,  ma'am  ?  But  T  have  no  objection  to  his  making 
the  marquis  a  happy  husband." 

"  He  has  done  what  few  men  would  have  done,  that  she 
may  be  a  self-respecting  wife." 

"  The  parson's  in  that  fellow  !"  Lord  Romfrey  exclaimed. 
"Now  I  have  the  story.  She  came  to  him,  he  declined  the 
gift,  and  you  were  turned  into  tlie  curtain  for  them.  Tf  ho 
had  only  been  off  with  her,  he  would  have  done  the  country 
good  service.  Here  he's  a  failure  and  a  nuisance ;  he's  a 
common  cock-shy  for  the  journals.  I'm  tired  of  hiring  of 
him ;  he's  a  stench  in  our  nostrils.  He's  tired  of  the 
woman." 

"  He  loves  her." 

"  Ma'am,  you're  hoodwinked.  If  he  refused  to  have  her, 
there's  a  something  he  loves  better.  I  don't  believe" we've 
bred  a  downright  lackadaisical  donkey  in  our  family  :  I  know 
him.  He's  not  a  fellow  for  abstract  morality  :  I  know  him. 
It's  bargain  against  bargain  with  him;  I'll  do  him  that  justice. 
I  hear  he  has  ordered  the  removal  of  the  Jersey  bull  from 
Holdesbury,  and  the  beast  is  mine,"  Lord  Romfrey  con- 
cluded in  a  lower  key. 

"  Nevil  has  taken  him." 

"  Ha  !    pull  and  pull,  then  !" 

"  He  contends  that  he  is  bound  by  a  promise  to  give  an 
American  gentleman  the  refusal  of  the  bull,  and  you  must 
sign  an  engagement  to  keejD  the  animal  no  longer  than  two 
years." 


THE  EARL  AND  THE  COUNTESS.  391 

"I  sign  no  engagement.     I  stick  to  the  bull.** 

"Consent  to  see  IS^evil  to-night,  my  lord." 

**  When  he  has  apologized  to  you,  I  may,  ma'am." 

"  Surely  he  did  more,  in  requesting  me  to  render  him  a 
service  ?" 

"  There's  not  a  creature  living  that  fellow  wouldn't  get  to 
serve  him,  if  he  knew  the  trick.  We  should  all  of  us  be 
marching  on  London  at  Shrapnel's  heels.  *^The  political 
mania  is  jast  as  incurable  as  hydrophobia,  and  he's  bitten. 
That's  clear. 

"  Bitten  perhaps  :  but  Jiot  mad.  As  you  have  always 
contended,  the  true  case  is  incurable,  but  it  is  very  rare  : 
;.nd  is  this  one  ?" 

"  It's  uncommonly  like  a  true  case,  though  I  haven't  seen 
him  foam  at  the  mouth,  and  shun  water — as  his  mob  does." 

Rosamund  restrained  some  tears,  betraying  the  effort  to 
hide  the  moisture.  "  I  am  no  match  for  you,  my  lord.  I 
try  to  plead  on  his  behalf;  I  do  wo]'=!e  than  if  I  were  dumb. 
This  I  most  earnestly  say  :  he  is  the  y^^vil  Beauchamp  who 
fought  for  his  country,  and  did  not  abandon  her  cause, 
though  he  stood  there — we  had  it  from  Colonel  Halkett — 
a  skeleton:  and  he  is  the  Il^evil  who — I  am  poorly  paying 
my  debt  to  him  ! — defended  me  from  the  aspersions  of  his 
cousin." 

"  Boys  !"  Lord  Bomfrey  ejaculated. 

"  It  is  the  same  dispute  between  them  as  men." 

*'  Have  you  forgotten  my  proposal  to  shield  you  from  liars 
and  scandalmongers  ?" 

"  Could  I  ever  forget  it  ?"  Rosamund  appeared  to  come 
shining  out  of  a  cloud.  "  Princeliest  and  truest  gentleman, 
I  thought  you  then,  and  I  know  you  to  be,  my  dear  lord.  I 
fancied  I  had  lived  the  scandal  down.  I  was  under  the 
delusion  that  I  had  grown  to  be  past  backbiting  :  and  that 
no  man  could  stand  before  me  to  insult  and  vilify  me.  But, 
for  a  woman  in  any  so-called  doubtful  position,  it  seems  that 
the  coward  will  not  be  wanting  to  strike  her.  In  quitting 
your  service,  I  am  able  to  affirm  that  only  once  during  the 
whole  term  of  it  have  I  consciously  overstepped  the  line 
of  my  duties :  it  was  for  ISTevil :  and  Captain  Baslcelett 
undertook  to  defend  your  reputation,  in  consequence." 

"  lias  the  rascal  been  questioning  yoar  conduct  ?"  The 
earl  frowned. 


392 

"  Oh,  no !  not  questioning :  he  does  not  question,  he 
accuses  :  he  never  doubted  :  and  what  he  went  shouting  as 
a  boy,  is  plain  matter  of  fact  to  him  now.  He  is  devoted 
to  you.  It  was  for  your  sake  that  he  desired  me  to  keep  my 
name  from  being  mixed  up  in  a  scandal  he  foresaw  the  occur- 
rence of  in  your  house." 

"  He  permitted  himself  to  sneer  at  you  ?" 

"  He  has  the  art  of  sneering.  On  this  occasion  he  wished 
to  be  direct  and  personal." 

"  What  sort  of  hints  were  they  ?" 

Lord  Romfrey  strode  away  from  her  chair  that  the  answer 
might  be  easy  to  her,  for  she  was  red,  and  evidently  suffering 
from  shame  as  well  as  indignation. 

"  The  hints  we  call  distinct,"  said  Rosamund, 

"In  words?" 

"In  hard  words." 

"  Then  you  won't  meet  Cecil  ?" 

Such  a  question,  and  the  tone  of  indifference  in  which  it 
came,  surprised  and  revolted  her  so,  that  the  unreflecting 
rej)ly  leapt  out: 

"  I  would  rather  meet  a  devil." 

Of  how  tremblingly,  vehemently,  and  hastily  she  had  said 
it,  she  was  unaware.  To  her  lord  it  was  an  outcry  of  nature, 
astutely  touched  by  him  to  put  her  to  proof. 

He  continued  his  long  leisurely  strides,  nodding  over  his 
feet. 

Rosamund  stood  up.  She  looked  a  very  noble  figure  in 
her  broad  black-furred  robe.  "  I  have  one  serious  confession 
to  make,  sir.'* 

"  What's  that  ?"  said  he. 

"  I  would  avoid  it,  for  it  cannot  lead  to  particular  harm ; 
but  T  have  an  enemy  who  may  poison  your  ear  in  my  absence. 
And  first  I  resign  my  position.     I  have  forfeited  it." 

"  Time  goes  forward,  ma'am,  and  you  go  round.  Speak  to 
the  point.  Do  j^ou  mean  that  you  toss  up  the  reins  of  my 
household  ?" 

"  I  do.     You  trace  it  to  Nevil  immediately  ?" 

"  I  do.  The  fellow  wants  to  upset  the  country,  and  he 
begins  with  me." 

"  You  are  wrong,  my  lord.  What  I  have  done  places  me 
at  Captain  Baskelett's  mercy.  It  is  too  loathsome  to  think 
of:    worse  than  the  whip  ;  worse  than  your  displeasure.     It 


THE  EARL  AND  THE  COUNTESS.  393 

mig"lit  never  be  known  ;  bnt  the  thought  that  i^  might  gives 
me  courage.  You  have  said  that  to  protect  a  woman  every- 
thing is  permissible.  It  is  jour  creed,  my  lord,  and  because 
the  world,  I  have  heard  you  say,  is  unjust  and  implacable  to 
women.  In  some  cases,  I  think  so  too.  In  reality  I  fol- 
lowed your  insti-uctions ;  I  mean,  your  example.  Cheap 
chivalry  on  my  part !  But  it  pained  me  not  a  little.  I  beg- 
to  urge  that  in  my  defence." 

"  Well,  ma'am,  you.  have  tied  the  knot  tight  enough  ;  per- 
haps now  you'll  cut  it,"  said  the  earl. 

Rosamund  gasped  softly.  "  M.  le  marquis  is  a  gentleman 
who,  after  a  life  of  dissipation,  has  been  reminded  by  bad 
health  that  he  has  a  young  and  beautiful  wife." 

"  He  dug  his  pit  to  fall  into  it : — he's  jealous  ?" 

She  shook  her  head  to  indicate  the  immeasurable. 

*'  Senile  jealousy  is  anxious  to  be  deceived.  He  could 
hardly  be  deceived  so  far  as  to  imagine  that  ]Madame  la  mar- 
quise would  visit  me,  such  as  I  am,  as  my  guest.  Knowingly 
or  not,  his  v^ery  clever  sister,  a  good  w^oman,  and  a  friend  to 
husband  and  wife — a  Frenchwoman  of  the  purest  type — gave 
me  the  title.  She  insisted  on  it,  and  I  presumed  to  guc.-s 
that  she  deemed  it  necessary  for  the  sake  of  peace  in  that 
home." 

Lord  Romf rey  appeared  merely  inquisitive ;  his  eyebrows 
were  lifted  in  permanence;  his  e\cs  were  mild. 

She  continued  :  "  They  leave  England  in  a  few  hours. 
They  are  not  likely  to  return.  I  permitted  him  to  addres'j 
me  with  the  title  of  countess. 

"  Of  Romf  rey  ?"  said  the  earl. 

Rosamund  bowed. 

His  mouth  contracted.  She  did  not  expect  thunder  to 
issue  from  it,  but  she  did  fear  to  hear  a  sarcasm,  or  that  she 
would  hav^e  to  endure  a  deadly  silence :  and  she  was  gather- 
ing her  ovv'n  lips  in  imitation  of  his,  to  nerve  herself  for 
some  stroke  to  come,  when  he  laughed  in  his  peculiar  close- 
mouthed  manner. 

"  I'm  afraid  you've  dished  yourself." 

**  You  cannot  forgive  me,  my  lord  ?" 

He  indulged  in  more  of  his  laughter,  and  abruptly  sum- 
moning gravity,  bade  her  talk  to  him  of  affairs.  He  himself 
talked  of  the  condition  of  the  Castle,  and  with  a  certain  off- 
hand contempt  of  the  ladies  of  the  family  and  Cecil's  father, 


394  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Sir  Jolm.  "  What  are  they  to  me  ?"  said  he,  arid  he  com- 
plained of  having  been  called  Last  Earl  of  Romfrey. 

"  The  line  ends  undegenemte,"  said  Kosamund  fervidly, 
though  she  knew  not  where  she  stood. 

"Ends!"  quoth  the  earl. 

"  I  must  see  Stukely,"  he  added  briskly,  and  stooped  to 
her :  "  I  beg  you  to  diive  me  to  my  Club,  countess." 

"Oh!  sir." 

"  Once  a  countess,  always  a  countess  !" 

"  But  once  an  impostor,  my  lord  ?" 

"  Not  alw^ays,  we'll  hope."  J 

He  enjoyed  this  little  variation  in  the  language  of  comedy ; 
letting  it  drop,  to  say  :  "  Be  here  to-morrow  early.  Don't 
chase  that  family  away  from  the  house.  Do  as  you  will,  but 
not  a  word  of  Nevil  to  me :  he's  a  bad  mess  in  any  man's 
porringer ;  it's  time  for  me  to  claim  exemption  of  him  from 
mine." 

She  dared  not  let  her  thoughts  flow,  for  to  think  was  to 
triumph,  and  possibly  to  be  deluded.  They  came  in  copious 
volumes  when  Lord  Romfrey,  alighting  at  his  Club,  called  to 
the  coachman  :  "Drive  the  countess  home." 

They  were  not  thoughts  of  triumph  absolutely.  In  her 
cooler  mind  she  felt  that  it  was  a  bad  finish  of  a  gallant 
battle.  ^  Few  women  had  risen  against  a  tattling  and  pelting 
Avorld  so  stedfastly  ;  and  would  it  not  have  been  better  to 
keep  her  own  ground,  which  she  had  won  with  tears  and 
some  natural  strength,  and  therewith  her  liberty,  which  she 
prized  ?  The  hateful  Cecil,  a  reminder  of  Avhom  set  her 
cheeks  burning  and  turned  her  heart  to  serpent,  had  forced 
her  to  it.  So  she  honestly  conceived,  owing  to  the  circum- 
stance of  her  honestly  disliking  the  pomps  of  life  and  not 
desiring  to  occupy  any  position  of  brilliancy.  She  thought 
assuredly  of  her  hoard  of  animosity  toward  the  scandal- 
mongers, and  of  the  quiet  glance  she  would  cast  behind  on 
them,  and  below.  That  thought  came  as  a  fruit,  not  as  a 
reflection. 

But  if  ever  two  ofi^ending  young  gentlemen,  nephews  of  a 
long-suffering  uncle,  were  circumvented,  undermined,  and 
struck  to  eaith,  with  one  blow,  here  was  the  instance.  This 
was  accomplished  by  Lord  Romfrey's  resolution  to  make  the 
lady  he  had  learnt  to  esteem  his  countess  :  and  more,  it  fixed 
to  him  foi"  life  one  whom  he  could  not  bear  to  think  of  losing: 


THE  :nephews  of  the  eael  395 

and  still  more,  it  miglit  be ;   but  wbat  more  was  nnwritten 
on  his  tablets. 

Rosamund  failed  to  recollect  that  Everard  Romfrey  never 
took  a  step  without  seeing  a  combination  of  objects  to  be 
gained  by  it. 


CHAPTER  XLiy. 


THE  NEPHEWS  OF  THE  EARL,  AND  ANOTHER  EXHIBITION  OF  THE 
TWO  PASSIONS  IN  BEAUCHAMP. 

It  was  now  the  season  when  London  is  as  a  lighted  tower 
to  her  provinces,  and,  among  other  gentlemen  hurried  thither 
by  attraction,  Captain  Baskelett  arrived.  Although  not  a 
personage  in  the  House  of  Commons,  he  was  a  vote  ;  and  if 
he  never  committed  himself  to  the  perils  of  a  speech,  he 
made  himself  heard.  His  was  the  part  of  chorus,  which  he 
performed  with  a  fairly  close  imitation  of  the  original  cries 
of  periods  before  parliaments  were  instituted,  thus  repre- 
senting a  stage  in  the  human  development  besides  the 
borough  of  Bevisham.  He  arrived  in  the  best  of  moods  foi 
the  emission  of  high-pitched  vowel- sounds ;  otherwise  in  the 
worst  of  tempers.  His  uncle  had  notified  an  addition  of 
his  income  to  him  at  Romfrey,  together  with  commands  that 
he  should  quit  the  castle  instantly  :  and  there  did  that 
woman,  Mistress  Culling,  do  the  honours  to  Xevil  Beau- 
champ's  French  party.  He  assured  Lord  Palmet  of  his 
positive  knowledge  of  the  fact,  incredible  as  the  sanction  of 
such  immoral  proceedings  by  the  Earl  of  Romfrey  must 
appear  to  that  young  nobleman.  Additions  to  income  are 
of  course  acceptable,  but  in  the  form  of  a  palpable  stipula- 
tion for  silence,  they  neither  awaken  gratitude  nor  effect 
their  purpose.  Quite  the  contrary  ;  they  prick  the  moral 
mind  to  sit  in  judgement  on  the  donor.  It  means,  she  fears 
me  !  Cecil  confidently  thought  and  said  of  the  intriguing 
woman  who  managed  his  patron. 

The  town-house  was  open  to  him.  Lord  Romfrey  was  at 
Steynham.  Cecil  could  not  suppose  that  he  was  falling  into 
a  pit  in  entering  it.  He  happened  to  be  the  favourite  of  the 
old  housekeeper,  who  liked  him  for  his  haughtiness,  which 


396  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

was  to  her  thinking  the  sign  of  real  English  nobility,  and 
perhaps  it  is  the  popular  sign,  and  a  tonic  to  the  people. 
She  raised  lamentations  over  the  shame  of  the  locking  of  the 
door  against  him  that  awful  night,  declaring  she  had  almost 
mustered  courage  to  go  down  to  him  herself,  in  spite  of 
Mrs.  Culling's  orders.  The  old  woman  lowered  her  voice  to 
tell  him  that  her  official  superior  had  permitted  the  French 
gentlemen  and  ladies  to  call  her  countess.  This  she  knew 
for  a  certainty,  though  she  knew  nothing  of  French  ;  but  the 
French  lady  who  came  second  brought  a  maid  who  knew 
English  a  little,  and  she  said  the  very  words — the  countess, 
and  said  also  that  her  party  took  Mrs.  Culling  for  the 
Countess  of  Romfrey.  What  was  more,  my  lord's  coachman 
caught  it  up,  and  he  called  her  countess,  and  he  had  a 
quarrel  about  it  with  the  footman  Kendall ;  and  the  day 
after  a  dreadful  afiair  between  them  in  the  mews,  home 
drives  madam,  and  Kendall  is  to  go  up  to  her,  and  down  the 
poor  man  comes,  and  not  a  word  to  be  got  out  of  him,  but  as 
if  he  had  scon  a  gliost.  "  She  have  such  powder,"  Cecil's 
admirer  concluded. 

"  I  wager  I  match  her,"  Cecil  said  to  himself,  pulling  at 
his  wristbands  and  letting  his  lower  teeth  shine  out.  The 
means  of  matching  her  were  not  so  palpable  as  the  reso- 
lutioTi.  First  he  took  men  into  his  confidence.  Then  he 
touched  lightly  on  the  story  to  ladies,  with  the  question, 
*'  What  ought  I  to  do  ?"  In  consideration  for  the  Earl  of 
Eomi'rey  he  ought  not  to  pass  it  over,  he  suggested.  The 
ladies  of  the  family  urged  him  to  go  to  Steynham  and  boldly 
confront  the  woman.  He  was  not  prej^ai-ed  for  that.  Better, 
it  seemed  to  him,  to  blow  the  rumour,  and  make  it  a  topic  of 
the  season,  until  Lord  Romfrey  should  hear  of  it.  Cecil  had 
the  ear  of  the  town  for  a  month.  He  was  in  the  act  of 
slicing  the  air  with  his  right  hand  in  his  accustomed  style, 
one  evening  at  Lady  Elsea's,  to  protest  how  vast  was  the 
dishonour  done  to  the  family  by  Mistress  Culling,  when 
Stukely  Culbi-ett  stopped  him,  saying,  "  The  lady  you  speak 
of  is  the  Countess  of  Romfrey.  I  was  present  at  the 
marriage." 

Cecil  received  the  shock  in  the  attitude  of  those  martial 
figures  we  see  wielding  two  wooden  swords  in  provincial 
gardens  to  tell  the  disposition  of  the  wind  :  abruptly  aban- 
doned by  it,  they  stand  transfixed,  one  sword  aloft,  the  other 


THE  NEPHEWS  OF  THE  EAEL.  397 

at  their  heels.  The  resemblance  extended  to  his  astonished 
countenance.  His  big  chest  heaved.  Like  many  another 
wonnded.  giant  before  him.  he  experienced  the  insufficiency 
of  interjections  to  solace  pain.  For  them,  however,  the 
rocks  were  handy  to  fling,  the  trees  to  uproot ;  heaven's 
concave  resounded  companionably  to  their  bellowings.  Re- 
lief of  so  concrete  a  kind  is  not  to  be  obtained  in  crowded 
London  assemblies. 

"  You  are  jesting  ? — you  are  a  jester,"  he  contrived  to 
say. 

"  It  was  a  private  marriage,  and  I  was  a  witness,"  replied 
Stnkely. 

"  Lord  Romfrey  has  made  an  honest  woman  of  her, 
has  he?" 

"  A  peeress,  you  mean." 

Cecil  bowed.  "  Exactly.  I  am  corrected.  I  mean  a 
peeress." 

He  got  out  of  the  room  with  as  high  an  ai:-  as  he  could, 
command,  feeling  as  if  a  bar  of  iron  had  flattened,  his  head. 

Xext  day  it  w^as  intimated  to  him  b}^  one  of  the  Steynham 
servants  that  apartments  w^ere  ready  for  him  at  the  resi- 
dence of  the  late  earl :  Lord  Romfrey's  house  was  about  to 
be  occupied  by  the  Countess  of  Romfrey.  Cecil  had  to 
quit,  and  he  chose  to  be  enamoured  of  that  dignity  of  sulk- 
ing  so  seductive  to  the  wounded  spirit  of  man. 

Rosamund,  Countess  of  Romfrey,  had  worse  to  endure 
from  Beauchamp.  He  indeed  came  to  the  house,  and  he 
went  through  the  formalities  of  congratulation,  but  his 
opinion  of  her  step  was  unconcealed,  that  she  had  taken  it 
for  the  title.  He  distressed  her  by  reviving  the  case  of  Dr. 
Shrapnel,  as  though  it  w^ere  a  matter  of  yesterday,  telling 
her  she  had  married  a  man  with  a  stain  on  him  ;  she  should 
have  exacted  the  Apology  as  a  nuptial  present ;  ay,  and  she 
would  have  done  it  if  she  had  cared  for  the  earl's  honour  or 
her  own.  So  little  did  he  understand  men  !  so  tenacious 
was  he  of  his  ideas!  She  had  almost  forg-otten  the  case  of 
Dr.  Shrapnel,  and  to  see  it  shooting  up  again  in  the  new 
])ath  of  her  life  was  really  irritating. 

Rosamund  did  not  defend  herself. 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  have  come,  Xevil,"  she  said  ;  "  your 
micle  holds  to  the  ceremony.  I  may  be  of  real  use  to  you 
Dow^ :  I  wish  to  be." 


398  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

"Yon  liave  only  to  prove  it,"  said  he.  "If  you  can  tnm 
his  mind  to  marriage,  yon  can  send  him  to  Bevisham." 

"My  chief  thought  is  to  serve  you." 

"  I  know  it  is,  I  know  it  is,"  he  rejoined  with  some  fer- 
vour. "You  have  served  me,  and  made  me  miserable  for 
life,  and  rightly.  N'ever  mind,  all's  well  while  the  hand's 
to  the  axe."  Beauchanip  smoothed  his  forehead  roughly, 
trying  hard  to  inspire  himself  with  the  tonic  draughts  of 
sentiments  cast  in  the  form  of  proverbs.  "  Lord  Romfrey 
saw  her,  you  say  ?" 

"  He  did,  N'evil,  and  admired  her." 

"  Well,  if  I  suffer,  let  me  think  of  her  !  For  courage  and 
nobleness  I  shall  never  find  her  equal.  Have  you  changed 
your  ideas  of  Frenchwomen  now  ?  Not  a  word,  you  say, 
not  a  look,  to  show  her  disdain  of  me  whenever  my  name 
was  mentioned!" 

"  She  could  scarcely  feel  disdain.  She  was  guilty  of  a 
sad  error." 

"  Through  trusting  in  me.  Will  nothing  teach  you  where 
the  fault  lies  ?  -'You  women  have  no  mercy  for  women. 
She  went  through  the  parade  to  Homfrey  Castle  and  back, 
and  she  must  have  been  perishing  at  heart.  That,  you 
J^^nglish  call  acting.  In  history  you  have  a  respect  for  such 
acting  up  to  the  scaffold.  Grood-bye  to  her  !  There's  a 
story  ended.  One  thing  you  must  promise :  you're  a 
peeress,  ma'am :  the  story's  out,  everybody  has  heard  of  it ; 
tliat  babbler  has  done  his  worst:  if  you  have  a  ])ccoming 
aT)preeiation  of  your  title,  you  will  promise  me  honestly — 
no,  give  me  your  word  as  a  woman  I  can  esteem — that  you 
Avill  not  run  about  excusing  me.  Whatever  you  hear  said 
or  suggested,  sa}^  nothing  yourself.  I  insist  on  your  keep- 
ing silence.     Press  my  hand." 

"  Nevil,  how  foolish  !" 

"  It's  my  will." 

"  It  is  unreasonable.     You  give  your  enemies  license." 

"  I  know  what's  in  your  head.  Take  my  hand,  and  let 
me  have  your  word  for  it." 

"  But  if  persons  you  like  very  much,  Nevil,  should  hear  ?** 

"  Promise.     You  are  a  woman  not  to  break  your  word." 

"  If  I  decline  ?" 

"Your  hand!     I'll  kiss  it." 

"  Oh!  my    darling."      Rosamand  flung   her  arms     round 


THE  NEPHEWS  OF  THE  EARL.  399 

hiiQ  and  strained  him  an  instant  to  her  bosom.  "  Yv'hat 
have  I  but  you  in  the  world  ?  My  comfort  was  the  hope 
that  I  might  serve  you." 

"  Yes  !  by  slayiug  one  woman  as  an  offering  to  another. 
It  would  be  impossible  for  you  to  speak  the  truth.  Don  t 
you  see,  it  would  be  a  lie  against  her,  and  making  a  figure  of 
me  that  a  man  would  rather  drop  to  the  ground  than  have 
shown  of  him  ?  I  was  to  blame,  and  only  I.  Madame  de 
Rouaillout  was  as  utterly  deceived  by  me  as  ever  a  trusting 
woman  by  a  brute.  I  look  at  myself  and  hardly  believe  it's 
the  same  man.  I  wrote  to  her  that  I  was  unchanged  —  and 
I  was  entirely  changed,  another  creature,  anything  Lord 
Homfrey  may  please  to  call  me." 

"  But,  Nevil,  I  repeat,  if  Miss  Halkett  should  hear  .  .  .  ?  " 

"  She  knows  by  this  time." 

"At  present  she  is  ignorant  of  it." 

"  And  what  is  Miss  Halkett  to  me  ?" 

"  More  than  you  imagined  in  that  struggle  you  underwent, 
I  think,  Nevil.  Oh  !  if  only  to  save  her  from  Captain  Baske- 
lett !  He  gained  your  uncle's  consent  when  they  were  at  the 
Castle,  to  support  him  in  proposing  for  her.  He  is  persistent. 
Women  have  been  snared  without  loving.  She  is  a  great 
heiress.  Reflect  on  his  use  of  her  wealth.  You  respect  her, 
if  you  have  no  warmer  feeling.  Let  me  assure  you  that  the 
husband  of  Cecilia,  if  he  is  of  Romf rey  blood,  has  the  fairest 
chance  of  the  estates.  That  man  will  employ  every  weapon. 
He  will  soon  be  here  bowing  to  me  to  turn  me  to  his  pur- 
poses." 

"  Cecilia  can  see  through  Baskelett,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"  Single-mindedly  selfish  men  may  be  seen  through  and 
through,  and  still  be  dangerous,  Xevil.  The  supposition  is, 
that  we  know  the  worst  of  them.  He  carries  a  story  to 
poison  her  mind.  She  could  resist  it,  if  you  and  she  were 
in  full  confidence  together.  If  she  did  not  love  you  she 
could  resist  it.  She  does,  and  for  some  strange  reason  be- 
yond my  capacity  to  fathom,  you  have  not  come  to  an  under- 
standing. Sanction  my  speaking  to  her,  just  to  put  her  on 
her  guard,  privately :  not  to  injure  that  poor  lady,  but  to 
explain.  Shall  she  not  know  the  truth  ?  I  need  say  but 
very  little.  Indeed,  all  I  can  say  is  that,  finding  the  mar- 
quise in  London  one  evening,  you  telegraphed  for  me  to 
attend  on  her,  and  I  joined  you.    You  shake  your  head.    But 


400 

surely  it  is  due  to  Miss  Halkett.  She  should  be  protected 
from  what  will  certainly  wound  her  deeply.  Her  father  ia 
afraid  of  you,  on  the  score  of  your  theories.  I  foresee  it :  he 
will  hear  tlie  scandal :  he  will  imagine  you  as  bad  in  morals 
as  in  politics.  And  you  have  lost  your  friend  in  Lord  Rom- 
frey — though  he  shall  not  be  your  enemy.  Colonel  Halkett 
and  Cecilia  called  on  us  at  Steynham.  She  was  looking 
beautiful ;  a  trifle  melancholy.  The  talk  was  of  your — tha*t 
— I  do  not  like  it,  but  you  hold  those  opinions — the  Repub- 
licanism. She  had  read  your  published  letters.  She  spoke 
to  me  of  your  sincerity.  Colonel  Halkett  of  course  ^^as 
vexed.  It  is  the  same  with  all  your  friends.  She,  however, 
by  her  tone,  led  me  to  think  that  she  sees  you  as  you  are, 
more  than  in  what  you  do.  They  are  now  in  AVales.  They 
will  be  in  town  after  Easter.     Then  you  must  expect  that 

her  feeling  for  you  v.-ill  be  tried,  unless but  you  will ! 

You  will  let  me  speak  to  her,  Nevil.  ]\Iy  position  allows  me 
certain  liberties  I  was  previously  debarred  from.  You  have 
not  been  so  very  tender  to  3'our  Cecilia  that  you  can  afford 
to  give  her  fresh  reasons  for  sorrowful  perplexity.  And  why 
should  you  stand  to  be  blackened  by  scamlal-mongcrs  when 
a  few  words  of  mine  will  prove  that  instead  ot"  weak  you 
have  been  strong,  instead  of  libertine  blameless  ?  I  am  not 
using  fine  phrases  :  I  would  not.  I  would  be  as  thoughtful 
of  you  as  if  you  were  present.  And  for  her  sake,  I  repeat, 
the  truth  should  be  told  to  her.     I  have  a  lock  of  her  hair." 

"  Cecilia's  ?     Where  ?"  said  Beaucharap. 

"It  is  at  Steynham."  Rosamund  primmed  her  lips  at  the 
success  of  her  probing  touch  ;  but  she  was  unaware  of  the 
chief  reason  for  his  doting  on  those  fair  locks,  and  how  they 
coloured  his  imagination  since  the  day  of  the  drive  into 
Bevisham. 

"  Now  lea\  e  me,  my  dear  Xevil,"  she  said.  "  Lord  Rom- 
frey  will  soon  be  here,  and  it  is  as  well  for  the  moment  that 
you  should  not  meet  him,  if  it  can  be  avoided." 

Beauchamp  left  her,  like  a  man  out-argued  and  overcome. 
He  had  no  wish  to  meet  his  uncle,  whose  behaviour  in  con- 
tracting a  misalliance  and  casting  a  shadow  on  the  family, 
in  a  manner  so  perfectly  objectless  and  senseless,  appeared 
to  him  to  call  for  the  reverse  of  compliments.  Cecilia's  lock 
of  hair  lying  at  Steynham  hung  in  his  mind.  He  saw  tlie 
smooth  flat  curl  lying  secret  like  a  smile. 


THE  NEPHEWS  OP  THE  EARL.  401 

The  graceful  head  it  had  fallen  from  was  dimmer  in  his 
mental  eye.  He  went  so  far  in  this  charmed  meditation  as 
("0  feel  envy  of  the  possessor  of  the  severed  lock  :  passingly 
he  wondered,  with  the  wonder  of  reproach,  that  the  possessor 
should  deem  it  enough  to  possess  the  lock,  and  resign  it  to 
a  drawer  or  a  desk.  And  as  when  life  rolls  back  on  us  after 
the  long  ebb  of  illness,  little  whispers  and  diminutive  images 
of  the  old  joys  and  prizes  of  life  arrest  and  fill  our  hearts  ; 
v^or  as,  to  men  who  have  been  beaten  down  by  storms,  the 
opening  of  a  daisy  is  dearer  than  the  blazing  orient  which 
bids  it  open;  so  the  visionary  lock  of  Cecilia's  hair  became 
Cecilia's  self  to  Beauchamp,  yielding  him  as  much  of  her 
as  he  could  bear  to  think  of,  for  his  heart  was  shattered. 

Why  had  she  given  it  to  his  warmest  friend?  For  the 
asking,  probably. 

This  question  was  the  first  ripple  of  the  breeze  from  other  ^ 
emotions  beginning  to  flow  fast. 

He  walked  out  of  Lonrlon,  to  be  alone,  and  to  think  :  and 
from  the  palings  of  a  load  on  a  South-western  run  of  high 
land,  he  gazed  at  the  great  city — a  plaice  conquerable  yet, 
with  the  proper  appliances  for  subjugating  it :  the  starting 
of  his  daily  newspaper,  The  Dawx,  say,  as  a  commenceri\ent. 
It  began  to  seem  a  possible  enterprise.     It  soon  seemed  a 

proximate  one.     If  Cecilia ! He  left  the  exclamation 

a  blank,  but  not  an  empty  dash  in  the  brain  ;  rather  like  the 
shroud  of  night  on  a  vast  and  gloriously  imagined  land. 

Xay,  the  prospect  was  partly  visible,  as  the  unknown 
country  becomes  by  degrees  to  the  traveller's  optics  on  the 
dark  hill-tops.  It  is  much,  of  course,  to  be  domestically 
well-mated  :  but  to  be  fortified  and  armed  by  one's  wife  with 
a  weapon  to  fight  the  world,  is  rare  good  fortune ;  a  rap- 
turous and  an  infinite  satisfaction.  He  could  now  support 
of  his  own  resources  a  weekly  paper.  A  paper  published 
weekly,  however,  is  a  poor  thing,  out  of  the  tide,  behind  the 
date,  mainly  a  literary  periodical,  no  foremost  combatant 
in  politics,  no  champion  in  the  arena  ;  hardly  better  than  a 
commentator  on  the  events  of  the  six  past  days  ;  an  echo, 
not  a  voice.  It  sits  on  a  Saturday  bench  and  pretends  to 
sum  up.  Who  listens  ?  The  verdict  knocks  dust  out  of  a 
cushion.  It  has  no  steady  continuous  pressure  of  influence. 
It  is  the  organ  of  sleepers.  Of  all  the  bigger  instruments 
of  money,  it  is  the  feeblest,  Beauchamp  thought.     His  con 

2d 


402 

stant  faith  in  the  good  effects  of  utterance  naturally  inclined 
him  to  value  six  occasions  per  week  above  one  ;  and  in  the 
fight  he  was  for  waging,  it  was  necessary  that  he  should 
enter  the  ring  and  hit  blow  for  blow  sans  intermission.  A 
statement  that  he  could  call  false  must  be  challenged  hot  the 
next  morning.  The  covert  Toryism,  the  fits  of  flunkey  ism, 
the  cowardice,  of  the  relapsing  middle- class,  which  is  now 
England  before  mankind,  because  it  fills  the  sails  of  the 
Press,  must  be  exposed.  It  supports  the  Press  in  its  own 
interests,  affecting  to  speak  for  the  people.  It  belies  the 
people.  And  this  Press,  declaring  itself  independent,  can 
hardly  walk  for  fear  of  treading  on  an  interest  here,  an 
interest  there.  It  cannot  have  a  conscience.  It  is  a  bad 
guide,  a  false  g-uardiaji ;  its  abject  claim  to  be  our  national 
and  popular  interpreter — even  that  is  hollow  and  a  mockery ! 
It  is  powerful  only  while  subservient.  An  engine  of  money, 
appealing  to  the  sensitiveness  of  money,  it  has  no  connection 
with  the  mind  of  the  nation.  And  that  it  is  not  of,  but  apart 
from,  the  people,  may  be  seen  when  great  crises  come.  Can 
it  stop  a  wai'  ?  The  people  would,  and  with  thunder,  had 
they  the  medium.  But  in  strong  gales  the  power  of  the 
Press  collapses  ;  it  wheezes  like  a  pricked  pigskin  of  a 
piper.  At  its  best  Beauchamp  regarded  our  lordly  Press 
as  a  curiously  diapered  cui-tain  and  delusive  mask,  behind 
which  the  country  sti-uggles  vainly  to  show  an  honest  feature ; 
and  as  a  trumpet  that  deafened  and  terrorized  the  people  ; 
a  mere  engine  of  leaguers  banded  to  keep  a  smooth  face  upon 
affairs,  quite  soullessly :  he  meanwhile  having  to  be  dumb. 

But  a  Journal  that  should  be  actually  independent  of  cir- 
culation and  advertisements:  a  popular  journal  in  the  true 
sense,  ve^y  lungs  to  the  people,  for  them  to  breathe  freely 
through  at  last,  and  be  heard  out  of  it,  with  well-paid  men 
of  mark  to  head  and  aid  them  ; — the  establishment  of  such 
a  Journal  seemed  to  him  brave  work  of  a  life,  though  one 
should  die  early.  The  money  launching  it  would  be  coin 
washed  pure  of  its  iniquity  of  selfish  reproduction,  by  service 
to  mankind.  This  Dawn  of  his  conception  stood  over  him 
like  a  rosier  Aurora  for  the  country.  He  beheld  it  in  ima- 
gination as  a  new  light  rising  above  hugeous  London.  You 
turn  the  sheets  of  The  Dawn,  and  it  is  the  manhood  of  the 
land  addressing  you,  no  longer  that  alternately  puling  and* 
insolent  cry  of  the  coffers.      The  health,   wealth,   comfort^ 


THE  NEPHEWS  OF  THE  EAEL.  403 

contentment  of  the  o;reater  number  are   there  to  be  striven 
for,  in  contempt  of  compromise  and  '  unseasonable  times.' 

Beauchamp's  illuminated  dream  of  the  power  of  his  Dawn 
to  vitalize  old  England,  libei-ated  him  singularly  from  his 
wearing  regrets  and  heart-sickness. 

Surely  Cecilia,  who  judged  him  sincere,  might  be  bent  to 
join  hands  with  him  for  so  good  a  Avork  !  She  would  bring 
riches  to  her  husband:  suthcient.  He  required  the  ablesb 
men  of  the  country  to  write  for  him,  and  it  was  just  that 
they  should  be  largely  paid.  They  at  least  in  their  present 
public  apathy  would  demand  it.  To  fight  the  brewers,  dis- 
tillers, publicans,  the  shopkeepers,  the  parsons,  the  landlords, 
the  law  limpets,  and  also  the  indiif  erents,  the  logs,  the  cravens 
and  the  fools,  high  talent  was  needed,  and  an  ardou:.  stimu- 
lated by  rates  of  pay  outdoing  the  offers  of  the  lucre-journals. 
A  large  annual  outlay  would  therefore  be  needed ;  possibly 
for  as  long  as  a  quarter  of  a  century.  Cecilia  and  her  hus- 
band would  have  to  live  modestly.  But  her  inheritance 
would  be  immense.  Colonel  Halkett  had  never  spent  a  tenth 
of  his  income.  In  time  he  might  be  taught  to  perceive  in 
The  Dawn  the  one  greatly  benericent  enterprise  of  his  day. 
He  might:  through  his  daughter's  eyes,  and  the  growing 
success  of  the  Journal.  Benevolent  and  gallant  old  man, 
patriotic  as  he  was,  and  kind  at  heart,  he  miglit  learn  to  see 
in  The  Dawn  a  broader  channel  of  philanthropy  and  chivalry 
than  any  w^e  have  yet  had  a  notion  of  in  England  !-va  school 
of  popular  education  into  the  bargain. 

Beauchamp  reverted  to  the  shining  curl.  It  could  not 
have  been  clearer  to  vision  if  it  had  lain  under  his  eyes. 

Ay,  that  first  wild  life  of  his  was  dead.  He  had  slain  it. 
ISTow  for  the  second  and  sober  life !  Who  can  say  V  The 
Countess  of  Romfrey  suggested  it : — Cecilia  ma}^  have 
prompted  him  in  his  unknown  heart  to  the  sacrifice  of  a 
lawless  love,  though  he  took  it  for  simply  barren  iron  duty. 
Brooding  on  her,  he  began  to  fancy  the  victoi-y  over  himself 
less  and  less  a  lame  one  :  for  it  waxed  less  and  less  difficult 
in  his  contemplation  of  it.  He  was  looking  forward  instead 
of  back. 

Who  cut  off  the  lock  ?  Probably  Cecilia  herself ;  and 
thinking  at  the  moment  that  he  would  see  it,  perhaps  beg  for 
it.  The  lustrous  little  ring  of  hair  wound  round  his  heart; 
emiled  both  on  its  emotions  and  its  aims ;  bound  them  in  ono, 

2l.  2 


404  BEAUCHAMP  S  CAREEE. 

But  proportionately  as  lie  grew  tender  to  Cecilia,  his  con- 
Bideration  for  Renee  increased ;  tHat  became  a  law  to  him : 
pity  nourished  it,  and  glimpses  of  self-contempt,  and  some- 
thing" like  worship  of  her  high-heartedness. 

He  wrote  to  the  countess,  forbidding  her  sharply  and  abso- 
lutely to  attempt  a  vindication  of  him  by  explanations  to  any 
person  whomsoever  ;  and  stating  that  he  would  have  no  false- 
hoods told,  he  desired  her  to  keep  to  the  original  tale  of  the 
visit  of  the  French  family  to  her  as  guests  of  the  Countess  of 
Romfrey  Contradictory  indeed.  Rosamund  shook  her  head 
over  him.  For  a  wilful  character  that  is  guilty  of  issuing 
contradictory  commands  to  friends  who  would  be  friends  in 
spite  of  him,  appears  to  be  expressly  angling  for  the  cynical 
spirit,  so  surely  does  it  rise  and  snap  at  such  provocation. 
He  was  even  more  emphatic  when  the}^  next  met.  He  would 
not  listen  to  a  remonstrance ;  and  though,  of  course,  her  love 
of  him  granted  him  the  liberty  to  speak  to  her  in  what  tone 
he  pleased ,  there  were  sensations  proper  to  her  new  rank 
which  his  intemperateness  wounded  and  tempted  to  revolt 
when  he  vexed  her  with  unreason.  She  had  a  glimpse  of  the 
face  he  might  wear  to  his  enemies. 

He  was  quite  as  resolute,  too,  about  that  slight  matter  of 
the  Jersey  bull.  He  had  the  bull  in  Bevisham,  and  would 
not  give  him  up  without  the  sign  manual  of  Lord  Romfrey 
to  an  agreement  to  resign  him  over  to  the  American  Quaker 
gentleman,  after  a  certain  term.  Moreover,  not  once  had  he, 
by  exclamation  or  innuendo,  during  the  period  of  his  recent 
grief  for  the  loss  of  his  first  love,  complained  of  his  uncle 
Everard's  refusal  in  the  old  days  to  aid  him  in  suing  for 
Renee.  Rosamund  had  expected  that  he  would.  She  thought 
it  unlovei'like  in  him  not  to  stir  the  past,  and  to  bow  to  into- 
lerable facts.  This  idea  of  him,  coming  in  conjunction  with 
his  present  behaviour,  convinced  her  that  there  existed  a  con- 
tradiction in  his  nature  :  whence  it  ensued  that  she  lost  her 
warmth  as  an  advocate  designing  to  intercede  for  him  with 
Cecilia ;  and  warmth  being  gone,  the  power  of  the  scandal 
seemed  to  her  unassailable.  How  she  could  ever  have  pre- 
sumed to  combat  it,  was  an  astonishment  to  her.  Cecilia 
might  be  indulgent,  she  might  have  faith  in  Nevil.  Little 
else  could  be  hoped  for. 

The  occupations,  duties,  and  ceremonies  of  her  new  posi- 
tion contributed  to  the  lassitude  into  which  Rosamund  sank. 


A  LITTLE  PLOT  AGAINST  CECILIA.  405 

And  she  soon  had  a  communication  to  make  to  her  lord,  the 
nature  of  which  was  more  startling  to  herself,  even  tragic. 
The  bondwoman  is  a  tree  woman  compared  with  the  wife. 

Lord  Romfrey's  friends  noticed  a  glow  of  hearty  health  in 
the  splendid  old  man,  and  a  prouder  animation  of  eye  and 
stature  ;  and  it  was  agreed  that  matrimony  suiterl  him  vrell. 
Luckily  for  Cecil  he  did  not  sulk  very  long.  A  spectator  of 
the  earl's  first  introduction  to  the  House  of  Peers,  he  called 
on  his  uncle  the  following  day,  and  Rosamund  accepted  his 
homage  in  her  husband's  presence.  He  vowed  that  my  lord 
was  the  noblest  figure  in  the  w^hole  assembly ;  that  it  had 
been  to  him  the  most  moving  sight  he  had  ever  witnessed  ; 
that  Nevil  shotild  have  been  there  to  see  it  and  experience 
what  he  had  felt  ;  it  would  have  done  old  Nevil  incalculable 
good !  and  as  far  as  his  grief  at  the  idea  and  some  reticence 
would  let  him  venture,  he  sighed  to  think  of  the  last  Earl  of 
Romfrey  having  been  seen  by  him  taking  the  seat  of  his 
fathers. 

Lord  Romfrey  shouted  "  Ha !"  like  a  checked  peal  of 
laughter,  and  glanced  at  his  wife. 


CHAPTER  XLY. 


A  LITTLE  PLOT  AGAINST  CECILIA. 


Some  days  before  Easter  week  Seymour  Austin  went  to 
Mount  Laurels  for  rest,  at  an  express  invitation  from  Colonel 
Halkett.  The  working  barrister,  who  is  also  a  working 
Member  of  Parliament,  is  occasionally  reminded  that  this 
mortal  machine  cannot  adapt  itself  in  perpetuity  to  the  long 
hours  of  labour  by  night  in  the  House  of  Commons  as  well 
as  by  day  in  the  Courts,  which  would  seem  to  have  been 
arranged  by  a  compliant  country  for  the  purpose  of  aiding 
his  particular,  and  most  honourable,  ambition  to  climb,  while 
continuing  to  fill  his  purse.  Mr.  Austin  broke  down  early 
in  the  year.  He  attributed  it  to  a  cold.  Other  representa- 
tive gentlemen  were  on  their  backs,  of  whom  he  could  admit 
that  theprotracted  night-work  had  done  them  harm,  with  the 
reservation  that  their  constitutions  were  originally  tmsound 
But  the  House  cannot  get  on  without  lawyers,  and  law^yeis 
must  practise  their  profession,  and  if  they  manage  both  to 


406 

practise  all  day  and  sit  half  the  night,  others  should  be  able 
to  do  the  simple  late  sitting ;  and  we  English  are  an  ener- 
getic people,  we  must  toil  or  be  beaten  :  and  besides,  '  night 
brings  counsel,'  men  are  cooler  and  wiser  by  night.  Any 
amount  of  work  can  be  p'ei-formed  by  careful  feeders  :  it  is 
the  stomach  that  kills  the  Englishman.  Brains  are  never 
the  worse  for  activity ;  they  subsist  on  it. 

These  arguments  and  citations,  good  and  absurd,  of  a  man 
more  at  home  in  his  hai-ness  than  out  of  it,  were  addressed 
to  the  colonel  to  stop  his  remonstrances  and  idle  talk  about 
burning  the  candle  at  both  ends.  To  that  illustration  Mr. 
Austin  replied  that  he  did  not  burn  it  in  the  middle. 

"  But  you  don't  want  money,  Austin." 

"  No ;  but  since  I've  had  the  habit  of  making  it  I  have 
taken  to  like  it." 

"  But  you're  not  ambitious." 

"■  Very  little ;  but  I  should  be  sorry  to  be  out  of  the  tide- 
way." 

"  I  call  it  a  system  of  slaughter,"  said  the  colonel ;  and 
Mr.  Austin  said,  "  The  world  goes  in  that  M^ay — love  and 
slaughter." 

"  JNTot  suicide  tliongh,"  Colonel  Halkett  muttered. 

*'  No,  that's  only  incidental." 

The  casual  word  '  love  '  led  Colonel  Halkett  to  speak  to 
Cecilia  of  an  old  love-affair  of  Seymour  Austins,  in  discuss- 
ing the  state  of  his  health  with  her.  The  lady  was  the 
daughter  of  a  famous  admiral,  handsome,  and  latterly  of  light 
fame.  Mr.  Austin  had  nothing  to  regret  in  her  having 
married  a  man  richer  than  himself. 

"  I  wish  he  had  mari-ied  a  good  woman,"  said  the  colonel. 

"  He  looks  unwell,  papa." 

"He  thinks  you're  looking  unwell,  my  dear." 

"  He  thinks  that  of  me  ?" 

Cecilia  prej)ared  a  radiant  face  for  Mr.  Austin. 

She  forgot  to  keep  it  kindled,  and  he  suspected  her  to  be 
a  victim  of  one  of  the  forms  of  youthful  melancholy,  and 
laid  stress  on  the  benefit  to  health  of  a  change  of  scene. 

"  We  have  just  returned  from  Wales,"  she  said. 

He  remarked  that  it  was  hardly  a  change  to  be  within 
shot  of  our  newspapers. 

The  colour  left  her  cheeks.  She  fancied  her  father  had 
betrayed  her  to  the  last  man  who  should  know  her  secret. 


A  LITTLE  PLOT  AGAINST  CECILIA.  407 

Beanchamp  and  the  newspapers  were  rolled  together  in  her 
mind  by  the  fever  of  apprehension  wasting  her  ever  since 
his  declaration  of  Republicanism,  and  defence  of  it,  and  an 
allusion  to  one  must  imply  the  other,  she  feared : — feared, 
but  far  from  quailingly.  She  had  come  to  think  that  she 
could  read  the  man  she  loved,  and  detect  a  reasonableness  in 
his  extravaoance.  Her  father  had  discovered  the  impolicy 
of  attacking  Beauchamp  in  her  hearing.  The  fever  by 
which  Cecilia  was  possessed  on  her  lover's  behalf,  often 
overcame  discretion,  set  her  judgement  in  a  w^hirl,  was  like 
a  delirium.  How  it  had  happened  she  knew  not.  She 
knew  only  her  wretched  state  ;  a  frenzy  seized  her  whenever 
his  name  was  uttered,  to  excuse,  account  for,  all  but  glorify 
him  publicly.  And  the  immodesty  of  her  conduct  was  per- 
ceptible to  her  while  she  thus  made  her  heart  bare.  She 
exposed  herself  once  of  late  at  Itchincope,  and  had  tried  to 
school  her  tongue  before  she  went  there.  She  felt  that  she 
should  inevitably  be  seen  through  by  Seymour  Austin  if  he 
took  the  world's  view  of  Beauchamp,  and  this  to  her  was 
like  a  descent  on  the  rapids  to  an  end  one  shuts  eyes  from. 

He  noticed  her  perturbation,  and  spoke  of  it  to  her  father. 

"  Yes,  I'm  very  miserable  about  her,"  the  colonel  confessed. 
"  Girls  don't  see  ....  they  can't  guess  ....  they  have 
no  idea  of  the  right  kind  of  man  for  them.  A  man  like 
Blackburn  Tuckham,  now,  a  man  a  father  could  leave  his 
girl  to,  with  confidence  !  He  works  for  me  like  a  slave  ;  I 
can't  guess  why.  He  doesn't  look  as  if  he  were  attracted. 
There's  a  man  !  but,  no  ;  harum-scarum  fellows  take  their 
fancy." 

"  Is  she  that  kind  of  young  lady  ?"  said  Mr.  Austin. 

"ISTo  one  would  have  thought  so.  She  pretends  to  have 
opinions  upon  politics  now.     It's  of  no  use  to  talk  of  it  !" 

But  Beauchamp  was  fully  indicated. 

Mr.  Austin  proposed  to  Cecilia  that  they  should  spend 
Easter  week  in  Rome. 

Her  face  lighted  and  clouded. 

"  I  should  like  it,"  she  said,  negatively. 

"  What's  the  objection  ?" 

"  None,  except  that  Mount  Laurels  in  Spring  has  grown 
dear  to  me ;  and  we  have  engagements  in  London.  I  am 
not  quick,  I  suppose,  at  new  projects.  T  have  ordered  the 
yacht  to  be  fitted  out  for  a  cruise  in  the  ^It'diterranean  early 


408 

in  the   Summer.     There  is  an  objection,  I  am  sure — yes; 
papa  has  invited  Mr.  Tuckham  here  for  Easter." 

"  We  could  carry  him  with  us." 

"  Yes,  but  I  should  wish  to  be  entirely  under  your  tutelage 
in  Rome." 

"  We  would  pair :  your  father  and  he  ;  you  and  I." 

"  We    might    do   that.     But   Mr.    Tuckliam    is    like  you, 
devoted  to   work ;  and,  unlike  you,  careless  of  Antiquities 
J  and  Art." 

"  He  is  a  hard  and  serious  worker,  and  tnerefore  the  best 
of  companions  for  a  holiday.  At  present  he  is  working  for 
the  colonel,  who  would  easily  persuade  him  to  give  over,  and 
come  with  us." 

"  He  certainly  does  love  papa,"  said  Cecilia. 

Mr.  Austin  dwelt  on  that  subject. 

Cecilia  perceived  that  she  had  praised  Mr.  Tuckliam  for 
his  devotedness  to  her  father  without  i-ecognizing  the  beauty 
of  nature  in  the  young  man  who  could  voluntai'ily  take 
service  under  the  elder  he  esteemed,  in  simple  admiration  of 
him.  Mr.  Austin  scaicely  said  so  much,  or  expected  her  to 
see  the  half  of  it,  but  she  wished  to  be  extremely  grateful, 
and  could  only  see  at  all  by  kindling  altogether. 

"He  does  himself  injustice  in  his  manner,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  That  has  become  somewhat  tempered,"'  Mr.  Austin 
assured  her,  and  he  acknowledged  what  it  had  been  with  a 
smile  that  she  reciprocated. 

A  rough  man  of  rare  quality  civilizing  under  vaiious 
influences,  and  half  ludicrous,  a  little  irritating,  wholly 
estimable,  has  frequently  won  the  benign  approbation  of  the 
sex.  In  addition,  this  rough  man  over  whom  she  smiled 
was  one  of  the  few  that  never  worried  her  concerning  her 
hand.  There  was  not  a  whisper  of  it  in  him.  He  simply 
loved  her  father. 

..Cecilia  welcomed  him  to  Mount  Laurels  with  grateful 
gladness.  The  colonel  had  hastened  Mr.  Tuckham's  visit  in 
view  of  the  expedition  to  Rome,  and  they  discoursed  of  it  at 
the  luncheon  table.  Mr.  Tuckham  let  fall  that  he  had  just 
seen  Beauchamp. 

"  Did  he  thank  yon  for  his  inheritance  ?"  Colonel  Halkett 
inquired. 

"Not  he  !''  Tuckham  replied,  jovially. 

Cecilia's  eyes,  quick  to  flash,  were  dropped. 


A  LTTTLE  PLOT  AGA.NST  CECILIA.  40^ 

The  colonel  said  :  "  I  suppose  you  told  him  nothing  of  what 
you  had  done  for  him  ?"  and  said  Tuckham  :  "  Oh  no  :  what 
anybody  else  would  have  done;"  and  proceeded  to  recount 
that  he  had  called  at  Dr.  Shrapnels  on  the  chance  of  an 
interview  with  his  friend  Lydiard,  who  used  generally  to  be 
hanging  about  the  cottage.  "  But  now  he  s  free  :  his  lunatic 
wife  is  dead,  and  I'm  happy  to  think  I  was  mistaken  as  to 
Miss  Denham.  ^len  practising  literature  should  marry 
women  with  money.  The  poor  girl  changed  colour  when  I 
informed  her  he  had  been  released  for  upwards  of  three 
months.  The  old  Radical's  not  the  thing  in  health.  He's 
anxious  about  leaving  her  alone  in  the  world  ;  he  said  so  to 
me.  Beauchamp's  for  rigging  out  a  yacht  to  give  him  a 
sail.  It  seems  that  salt  water  did  him  some  good  last  year. 
They're  both  of  them  rather  the  worse  for  a  row  at  one  of 
their  meetings  in  the  Xorth  in  support  of  that  public 
nuisance,  the  democrat  and  atheist  Roughleigh.  The  Radi- 
cal doctor  lost  a  hat,  and  Beauchamp  almost  lost  an  eye. 
He  would  have  been  a  Nelson  of  politics,  if  he  had  been  a 
monops,  with  an  excuse  for  not  seeing.^ It's  a  trifle  to  them, 
part  of  their  education.  They  call  themselves  students. 
Rome  will  be  capital,  Miss  Halkett.  You're  an  Italian 
scholar,  and  I  beg  to  be  accepted  as  a  pupil." 

"  I  fear  we  have  postponed  the  expedition  too  long,"  said 
Cecilia.      She  could  have  sunk  with  languor. 

"  Too  long  ?"  cried  Colonel  Halkett,  mystified. 

'■  Until  too  late,  I  mean,  papa.  Do  you  not  think,  Mr. 
Austin,  that  a  fortnight  in  Rome  is  too  short  a  time  ?" 

"  Not  if  we  make  it  a  month,  my  dear  Cecilia." 

"  Is  not  our  salt  air  better  for  you  r  The  yacht  shall  be 
fitted  out." 

"  I'm  a  poor  sailor!" 

''  Besides,  a  hasty  excursion  to  Italy  brings  one's  antici- 
pated regrets  at  the  farewell  too  close^ to- the.. .pleasure  of 
beholding  it,  for  the  enjoyment  of  that^uxury  of  delight 
which  I  associate  with  the  name  of  Italy." 

"  Why,  my  dear  child,"  said  her  father,  "  you  were  all  for 
going,  the  other  day." 

"  I  do  not  remember  it,"  said  she.  "  One  plans  agreeable 
schemes.  At  least  we  need  not  hurry  from  home  so  very 
soon  after  our  return.  We  have  been  travelling  incessantly. 
The   cottage  in   Wales  is   not  home.     It  is   hardly   fair  to 


410 

Mount  Laurels  to  quit  it  without  observing  the  changes  of 
the  season  in  our  flowers  and  birds  here.  And  we  have 
visitors  coming.  Of  course,  papa,  I  would  not  chain  you  to 
England.  If  I  am  not  well  enough  to  accompany  you  I  can 
go  to  Louise  for  a  few  weeks." 

Was  ever  transparency  so  threadbare  ?  Cecilia  shrank 
from  herself  in  contemplating  it  when  she  was  alone ;  and 
Colonel  Halkett  put  the  question  to  Mr.  Austin,  saying  to 
him  privately,  with  no  further  reserve :  "  It's  that  fellow 
Beauchamp  in  the  neighbourhood  ;  I'm  not  so  blind.  He'll 
be  knocking  at  my  door,  and  I  can't  lock  him  out.  Austin, 
would  you  guess  it  was  my  girl  speaking  ?  I  never  in  my 
life  had  such  an  example  of  intoxication  before  me.  I'm 
perfectly  miserable  at  the  sight.  You  know  her ;  she  was 
the  proudest  girl  living.  Her  ideas  were  orderly  and  sound  ; 
she  had  a  good  intellect.  Now  she  more  than  half  defends 
him — a  naval  officer  !  good  Lord  ! — for  getting  up  in  a  public 
room  to  announce  that  he's  a  Republican,  and  writing  heaps 
of  mad  letters  to  justify  himself.  He's  ruined  in  his  profes- 
sion :  hopeless !  He  can  never  get  a  ship :  his  career's  cut 
short,  he's  a  rudderless  boat.  A  gentleman  drifting  to  Bed- 
lam, his  uncle  calls  him.  I  call  his  treatment  of  Grancey 
Lespel  anything  but  gentlemanly.  This  is  the  sort  of  fellow 
my  girl  worships!  What  can  I  do  ?  I  can't  interdict  the 
house  to  him  :  it  would  onl}-  make  matters  worse.  Thank 
God,  the  fellow  hangs  fire  somehow,  and  doesn't  come  to  me. 
I  expect  it  ever}^  day,  either  in  a  letter  or  the  mfin  in  person. 
And  I  declare  to  heaven  I'd  rather  be  threading*  a  Khyber  Pass 
with  my  poor  old  friend  who  fell  to  a  shot  thei-e." 

"  She  certainly  has  another  voice,"  Mr,  Austin  assented 
gravely. 

He  did  not  look  on  Beauchamp  as  the  best  of  possible 
husbands  for  Cecilia. 

"  Let  her  see  that  you're  anxious,  Austin,"  said  the  colonel. 
*'  I'm  her  old  opponent  in  this  affair.  She  loves  me,  but  she's 
accustomed  to  think  me  prejudiced  :  you  she  won't.  You 
may  have  a  good  effect." 

"  Not  by  speaking." 

"  No,  no ;  no  assault :  not  a  word,  and  not  a  word  against 
him.  Lay  the  wind  to  catch  a  gossamer.  I've  had  my  ex- 
perience of  blowing  cold,  and  trying  to  run  her  down.  He's 
at  Shrapnel's.      He'll    be    up   here  to-day,   and   I  have  an 


A  LITTLE  PLOT  AGAINST  CECILIA.  411 

engagement  in  the  town.  Don't  qnit  her  side.  Let  her 
fancy  you  are  interested  in  some  disciission — Radicalism,  if 
you  like." 

Mr.  Austin  readily  undertook  to  mount  guard  over  her 
while  her  father  rode  into  Bevisham  on  business. 

The  enemy  appeared. 

Cecilia  saw  him,  and  could  not  step  to  meet  him  for  trouble 
of  heart.     It  was  bliss  to  know  that  he  lived  and  was  near. 

A  transient  coldness  following  the  fit  of  ecstasy  enabled 
her  to  swim  through  the  terrible  first  minutes  face  to  face 
with  him. 

He  folded  her  round  like  a  mist ;  but  it  grew  a  problem 
to  understand  why  Mr.  Austin  should  be  perpetually  at 
hand,  in  the  garden,  in  the  woods,  in  the  drawing-room, 
wheresoever  she  wakened  up  from  one  of  her  trances  to  see 
things  as  they  were. 

Yet  Beauch^mp,  with  a  daring  and  cunning  at  which  her 
soul  exu]ted,**^ancl  her  feminine  nature  trembled,  as  at  the 
divinely  terrible,  had  managed  to  convey  to  her  no  less  than 
if  they  had  been  alone  together. 

His  parting  words  were :  "  I  must  have  five  minutes  with 
your  father  to-morrow." 

How  had  she  behaved  ?  What  could  be  Seymour  Austin's 
idea  of  her  ? 

She  saw  the  blind  thing  that  she  was,  the  senseless 
thing,  the  shameless  ;  and  vulture-like  in  her  scorn  of  her- 
self, she  alighted  on  that  disgraced  Cecilia  and  picked  her 
to  pieces  hungrily.  It  was  clear  :  Beauchamp  had  meant 
nothing  beyond  friendly  civility:  it  was  only  her  abject 
,i;reediness  pecking  at  crumbs,  ^o  !  he  loved  her.  Could  a 
woman's  heart  be  mistaken  ?  She  melted  and  wept,  thank- 
ing him :  she  offered  him  her  remnant  of  pride,  pitiful  to 
behold. 

And  still  she  asked  herself  betweenwhiles  whether  it 
could  be  true  of  an  English  lady  of  our  day  that  she,  the 
fairest  stature  under  sun,  was  ever  knowingly  twisted  to  this 
convulsion.  She  seemed  to  look  forth  from  a  barred  window 
on  flower,  and  field,  and  hill.  Quietness  existed  as  a  vision. 
Was  it  impossible  to  embrace  it?  How  pass  into  it?  By 
surrendering  herself  to  the  flames,  like  a  soul  unto  death  ! 
For  why,  if  they  were  overpowering,  attempt  to  resist  them  ? 
It  flattered  her  to  imagine  that  she  had  been  resisting  them 


412 

in  fheir  present  burning  might  ever  since  her  lover  stepped 
on  the  Esjperanzas  deck  at  the  mouth  of  Otley  River.  How 
foolish,  seeing  that  they  are  fatal !  A  thrill  of  satisfaction 
swept  her  in  reflecting  that  her  ability  to  reason  was  thus 
active.  And  sLe  was  instantly  rewarded  for  surrendeiiug- ; 
pain  fled,  to  prove  her  reasoning  good  ;  the  flames  devoured 
her  gently:  they  cared  not  to  torture  so  long  as  they  had 
her  to  themselves. 

At  night,  candle  in  hand,  on  the  corridor,  her  father  told 
her  he  had  come  across  Grancey  Lespel  in  Bevisham,  and 
heard  what  he  had  not  quite  relished  of  the  Countess  of 
Jiomfrey.  The  glittering  of  Cecilia's  eyes  frightened  him. 
Taking  her  for  the  moment  to  know  almost  as  much  as  he, 
the  colonel  doubted  the  weight  his  communication  would 
have  on  her;  he  talked  obscurely  of  a  scandalous  affair  at 
Lord  Romfrey's  house  in  town,  and  Beauchamp  and  that 
Frenchwoman.  "  But,"  said  he,  "  Mrs.  Grancey  yviW  be  here 
to-morrow." 

"  So  will  Nevil,  papa,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  Ah  !  he's  coming,  yes  ;  well !"  the  colonel  puffed.  "  Well, 
1  shall  see  him,  of  course,  but  I  ....  I  can  only  say  that 
if  his  oath's  worth  having,  I  .  .  .  .  and  I  think  you  too, 
my  dear,  if  you  ....  but  it's  no  use  antici])af  ini^'.  I  shall 
stand  out  for  your  honour  and  happiness.  There,  your 
cheeks  are  flushed.     Go  and  sleep." 

Some  idle  tale  !  Cecilia  murmured  to  herself  g#  dozen 
times,  undisturbed  by  the  recurrence  of  it.  Nevil  was 
coming  to  speak  to  her  father  to-morrow  !  Adieu  to  doubt 
and  division  !  Happy  to-morrow  !  and  deai*  Mount  Laurels  ! 
The  primroses  were  still  fair  in  the  woods  :  and  soon  the 
cowslips  w^ould  come,  and  the  nightingale ;  she  lay  lapt  in 
images  of  everything  innocently  pleasing  to  Nevil.  Soon 
the  Esjperanza  would  be  spreading  wings.  She  revelled  in  a 
picture  of  the  yacht  on  a  tumbling  Mediterranean  Sea, 
meditating  on  the  two  specks  near  the  tiller, — who  were 
blissful  human  creatures,  blest  by  heaven  and  in  themselves 
— with  luxurious  Olympian  benevolence. 

For  all  that,  she  awoke,  starting  up  in  the  first  cold  circle 
of  tw^ilight,  her  heart  in  violent  action.  She  had  dreamed 
that  the  vessel  was  wrecked.  "  I  did  not  think  myself  so 
cowardly,"    she  said   aloud,  pressing  her    side :    and   then, 


A  LITTLE  PLOT  AGAINST  CECILIA.  413 

with   the   dream   in  her   eyes,  she  gasped:   "It  woul-1    be 
together !" 

Strangely  chilled,  she  tried  to  recover  some  fallen  load. 
The  birds  of  the  dawn  twittered,  chirped,  dived  aslant  her 
window,  fluttered  back.  Instead  of  a  fallen  load,  she  fancied 
presently  that  it  was  an  expectation  she  was  desiring  to 
realize  :  but  what  ?  What  could  be  expected  at  that  hour  ? 
She  quitted  her  bed,  and  paced  up  and  down  the  room 
beneath  a  gold-starred  ceiling.  Her  expectation,  she  re- 
solved to  think,  was  of  a  splendid  day  of  the  young  Spring 
at  Mount  Laurels — a  day  to  praise  to  Ne^il. 

She  raised  her  window-blind  at  a  window  letting  in  sweet 
air,  to  gather  indications  of  promising  weather.  Her  lover 
stood  on  the  grass-plot  among  the  flower-beds  below,  looking 
up,  as  though  it  had  been  his  expectation  to  see  her  which 
had  drawn  her  to  gaze  out  with  an  idea  of  some  expectation 
of  her  own.  So  visionary  was  his  figure  in  the  grey  soli- 
tariness of  the  moveless  morning  that  she  stared  at  the 
apparition,  scarce  putting  faith  in  him  as  man,  until  he 
kissed  his  hand  to  her,  and  had  softly  called  her  name. 

Impulsively  she  waved  a  hand  from  her  lips. 

Now  there  was  no  retreat  for  either  of  them  ! 

She  a\\()ke  to  this  conviction  after  a  flight  of  blushes  that 
burnt  her  thoughts  to  ashes  as  they  sprang.  Thoughts  born 
blushing,  all  of  the  crimson  colour,  a  rose-garden,  succeeded, 
and  corresponding  with  their  speed  her  feet  paced  the  room, 
both  slender  hands  crossed  at  her  throat  under  an  uplifted 
chin,  and  the  curves  of  her  dark  eyelashes  dropped  as  in  a 
swoon. 

"  He  loves  me !"  The  attestation  of  it  had  been  visible. 
*'  No  one  but  me  !"     Was  that  so  evident  ? 

Her  father  picked  up  silly  stories  of  him — a  man  who 
made  enemies  recklessly  ! 

Cecilia  was  petrified  by  a  gentle  tapping  at  her  door. 
Her  father  called  to  her,  and  she  threw  on  her  dressing- 
gown,  and  opened  the  door. 

The  colonel  was  in  his  riding- suit. 

"  I  haven't  slept  a  wink,  and  I  find  it's  the  same  with 
you,"  he  said,  paining  her  with  his  distressed  kind  eyes. 
*'  I  ought  not  to  have  hinted  anything  last  night  without 
proofs.     Austin's  as  unhappy  as  I  am." 

"  At  what,  my  dear  papa,  at  what  ?"  cried  Cecilia. 


414 

"  I  ride  over  to  Stejnham.  this  morning,  and  1  sliall  bring 
you  proofs,  my  poor  child,  proofs.  That  foreign  tangle  of 
his  .   .  .  ." 

"  Yon  speak  of  Nevil,  papa?" 

"  It's  a  common  scandal  over  London.  That  French- 
woman was  found  at  Lord  Romfrev's  house  ;  Ladv  Ronifrey 
cloaked  it.  I  believe  the  woman  would  swear  black's  white 
to  make  Xevil  Beauchamp  appear  an  angel ;  and  he's  a 
desperately  cunning  hand  with  women.     You  doubt  that." 

She  had  shuddered  slightly. 

"  You  won't  doubt  if  I  bring  you  proofs.  Till  I  come 
back  from  Steynham,  I  ask  you  not  to  see  him  alone :  not  to 
go  out  to  him." 

The  colonel  glanced  at  her  windows. 

Cecflia  submitted  to  the  request,  out  of  breath,  consenting 
to  feel  like  a  tutored  girl,  that  she  might  conceal  her  guilty 
knowledge  of  what  was  to  be  seen  through  the  windows. 

"  Now  I'm  off,"  said  he,  and  kissed  her. 

"  If  you  would  accept  Xevil's  word  !"  she  murmured. 

"  Not  where  women  are  concerned  !" 

He  left  her  with  this  remark,  which  found  no  jealous 
response  in  her  heart,  yet  ranged  over  certain  dispersed 
inflammable  grains,  like  a  match  applied  to  damp  powder; 
again  and  again  running  in  little  leaps  of  harmless  fire, 
keeping  her  alive  to  its  existence,  and  surprising  her  that  it 
should  not  have  been  extinguished. 

Beauchamp  presented  himself  rather  late  in  the  afternoon, 
when  ^Ir.  Austin  and  Blackburn  Tuckham  were  sipping  tea 
in  Cecilia's  boudoir  with  that  lady,  and  a  cousin  of  her  sex, 
by  whom  she  was  led  to  notice  a  faint  discoloration  over  one 
of  his  yyes,  that  was,  considering  whence  it  came,  repulsive 
to  compassion.  A  blow  at  a  Radical  meeting !  He  spoke  of 
Dr.  Shrapnel  to  Tuckham,  and  assuredly  could  not  complain 
that  the  latter  was  unsympathetic  in  regard  to  the  old  man's 
health,  though  when  he  said:  "Poor  old  man  !  he  fears  he 
will  die !"  Tuckham  rejoined :  "  He  had  better  make  his 
peace." 

''  He  fears  he  will  die,  because  of  his  leaving  Miss  Denham 
unprotected,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"  Well,  she's  a  good-looking  girl :  he'll  be  able  to  leave 
her  something,  and  he  might  easily  get  her  married,  I  should 
think,"  said  Tuckham. 


A  LITTLE  PLOT  AGAINST  CECILIA.  415 

"He's  not  satisfied  with  handing  her  to  any  kind  of  man." 

"  If  the  choice  is  to  be  among  Radicals  and  infidels,  I  don't, 
wonder.     He  has  come  to  one  of  the  tests." 

Cecilia  heard  Beauchamp  speaking  of  a  neAvspaper.  A 
great  Radical  Journal,  unmatched  in  sincerity,  superior  in 
ability,  soon  to  be  equal  in  power,  to  the  leader  and  exemplar 
of  the  lucre-Press,  would  some  day  see  the  liglit. 

"You'll  want  money  for  that,"  said  Tuckham. 

"I  know,"  said  Beauchamp. 

"  Are  you  prepared  to  stand  forty  or  fifty  thousand  a 
year?" 

"  It  need  not  be  half  so  much," 

"  Counting  the  libels,  1  rate  the  outlay  rather  low." 

"  Yes,  lawyers,  judges,  and  juries  of  tradesmen,  dealing 
justice  to  a  Radical  print !" 

Tuckham  brushed  his  hand  over  his  mouth  and  ahemed. 
* 'It's  to  be  a  penny  journal  ?" 

"  Yes,  a  penny,     I'd  make  it  a  farthing " 

"  Pay  to  have  it  read  ?" 

* 'Willingly," 

Tuckham  did  some  mental  arithmetic,  quaintly,  with 
rapidly  blinking  eyelids  and  open  mouth.  "  You  may  count 
it  at  the  cost  of  two  paying  mines,"  he  said  fii^mly.  "  That 
is,  if  it's  to  be  a  consistently  Radical  Journal,  at  law  with 
everybody  all  round  the  year.  And  by  the  time  it  has  won 
a  reputation,  it  will  be  undermined  by  a  radicaller  Radical 
Journal.  That's  how  we've  lowered  the  country  to  this  level. 
vThat's  an  Inferno  of  Circles,  down  to  the  ultimate  mire. 
And  what  on  earth  are  you  contending  for  ?" 

"  Freedom  of  thought,  for  one  thing." 

*' We  have  quite  enough  free-thinking,'* 

"  There's  not  enough  if  there's  not  perfect  freedom." 

"  Dangerous  !"  quoth  Mr.  Austin, 

"  But  it's  that  danger  which  makes  men,  sir ;  and  it's  fear 
of  the  danger  that  makes  our  modern  Englishman," 

"Oh!  Oh!"  cried  Tuckham  in  the  voice  of  a  Parlia- 
mentary Opposition,  "  Well,  you  start  your  paper,  we'll 
assume  it :  what  class  of  men  will  you  get  to  write  ?" 

"  I  shall  get  good  men  for  the  hire," 

"  You  won't  get  the  best  men ;  you  may  catch  a  clever 
youngster  or  two,  and  an  old  rogue  of  talent ;  you  won't  get 
men  of  weight.  They're  prejudiced,  I  dare_say\    The  Journals 


416 

which  are  commercial  speculations  give  us  a  guarantee  that 
they  mean  to  be  respectable ;  they  must,  if  they  wouldn't 
collapse.  That's  why  the  best  men  consent  to  write  for 
them." 

"  Money  will  do  it,"  said  Beauchamp. 

Mr.  Austin  disagreed  with  that  observation. 

*'  Some  patriotic  spirit,  I  may  hope,  sir." 

Mr.  Austin  shook  his  head.  "  We  put  different  construc- 
tions upon  patriotism." 

"  Besides — fiddle  !  nonsense  !"  exclaimed  Tuckham  in  the 
mildest  interjections  he  could  summon  for  a  vent  in  society 
to  his  offended  common  sense ;  "  the  better  your  men  the 
worse  your  mark.  You're  not  dealing  with  an  intelligent 
people." 

"  There's  the  old  charge  against  the  people." 

"  But  they're  not.  You  can  madden,  you  can't  elevate  thera 
by  writing  and  writing.  Defend  us  from  the  unedueiited 
English !  The  common  English  are  doltish ;  except  in  the 
North,  where  you  won't  do  much  with  them.  Compare  them 
with  the  Yankees  for  shrewdness,  the  Spaniards  for  sobriety, 
the  French  for  ingenuity,  the  Germans  for  enlightenment, 
the  Italians  in  the  Arts  ;  yes,  the  Russians  for  good-humour 
and  obedience — where  are  they  ?  They're  only  worth  some- 
thing when  they're  led.  They  fight  well ;  there's  good  stuff 
in  them." 

"  I've  heard  all  that  before,"  returned  Beauchamp,  un- 
ruffled. "  You  don't  know  them,  v  I  mean  to  educate  I'lem 
by  giving  them  an  interest  in  their  country.  At  present 
they  have  next  to  none.^  Our  governing  class  is  decidedly  un- 
intelligent, in  my  opinion  brutish,  for  it's  indifferent.  My 
paper  shall  render  your  traders  justice  for  what  they  do, 
and  justice  for  what  they  don't  do." 

"My  traders,  as  you  call  them,  are  the  soundest  foundation 
for  a  civilized  state  that  the  world  has  yet  seen." 

"  What  is  your  paper  to  be  called  ?"  said  Cecilia. 

"  The  Dawn,"  Beauchamp  answered. 

She  blushed  fiery  red,  and  turned  the  leaves  of  a  portfolio 
of  drawings. 

"  The  Dawn  !"  ejaculated  Tuckham.  "  The  grey-eyed,  or 
the  red  ?    Extraordinary  name  for  a  paper,  upon  my  word  !" 

"  A  paper  that  doesn't  devote  half  its  columns  to  the  vices 


A  LITTLE  PLOT  AGAINST  CECILIA.  417 

of  the  rich — to  money  getting,  spending  and  betting — will 
be  an  extraordinaiy  paper." 

"  I  have  it  before  me  now  ! — two  doses  of  flattery  to  one  of 
the  whip.  ]^o,  no ;  yon  haven't  hit  the  disease.  We  want 
union,  not  division.  Turn  your  mind  to  being  a  moralist, 
instead  of  a  politician." 

"  The  distinction  shouldn't  exist  !** 

"  Only  it  does!"' 

Mrs.  Grancey  Lespel's  entrance  diverted  their  dialogue 
from  a  theme  wearisome  to  Cecilia,  for  Beauchamp  shone 
but  darkly  in  it,  and  Mr.  Austin  did  not  join  in  it.  Mrs. 
Grancey  touched  Ceachamp's  fingers.  "  Still  political  ?"  she 
said.  "  You  have  been  seen  about  London  with  a  French 
oflicer  in  uniform." 

"  It  was  M.  le  comte  de  Croisnel,  a  very  old  friend  and 
comrade  of  mine,"  Beauchamp  replied. 

"  Why  do  those  Frenchmen  everlastingly  wear  their 
uniforms  ? — tell  me !     Don't  you  think  it  detestable  style  ?" 

"  He  came  over  in  a  hurry." 

"  ISTow,  don't  be  huffed.  I  kiiow  you,  for  defending  your 
friends,  Captain  Beauchamp !  Did  he  not  come  over  with 
ladies  ?" 

"  With  relatives,  yes." 

"  Relatives  of  course.  But  when  British  officers  travel 
with  ladies,  relatives  or  other,  they  prefer  the  simplicity  of 
mufti,  and  so  do  I,  as  a  question  of  taste,  I  must  say." 

"  It  was  quite  by  misadventure  that  M.  de  Croisnel 
chanced  to  come  in  his  uniform." 

"  Ah !  I  know  you,  for  defending  your  friends,  Captain 
Beauchamp.  He  was  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  change  his 
uniform  before  he  started,  or  en  route  ?" 

"  So  it  happened." 

Mrs.  Grancey  let  a  lingering  eye  dwell  maliciously  on 
Beauchamp,  who  said,  to  shift  the  burden  of  it:  "The 
French  are  not  so  jealous  of  military  uniforms  as  we  are. 
M.  de  Croisnel  lost  his  portmanteau." 

"  Ah !  lost  it !  Then  of  course  he  is  excusable,  except  to 
the  naked  eye.  Dear  me !  you  have  had  a  bruise  on  yours. 
Was  Monsieur  votre  ami  in  the  Italian  campaign  ?" 

"  Xo,  poor  fellow,  he  was  not.  He  is  not  au  Imperialist ; 
he  had  to  remain  in  garrison." 

"  He  wore  a  multitude  of  medals,  I  have  been  told.     A 

2e 


418  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

cup  of  tea,  Cecilia.  And  how  long  did  he  stay  in  England 
with  his  relatives  ?" 

"  Two  days." 

"  Only  two  days  !  A  very  short  visit  indeed — singularly 
short.  Somebody  informed  me  of  their  having  been  seen  at 
Romfrey  Castle,  which  cannot  have  been  true." 

She  turned  her  eyes  from  Beauchamp  silent  to  Cecilia's 
hand  on  the  teapot.  "  Half  a  cup,"  she  said  mildly,  to  spare 
the  poor  hand  its  betrayal  of  nervousness,  and  relapsed  from 
her  air  of  mistress  of  the  situation  to  chatter  to  Mr.  Austin. 

Beauchamp  continued  silent.  He  took  up  a  book,  and 
presently  a  pencil  from  his  pocket,  then  talked  of  the  book 
to  Cecilia's  cousin ;  and  leaving  a  paper-cutter  between  the 
leaves,  he  looked  at  Cecilia  and  laid  the  book  down. 

She  proceeded  to  conduct  Mrs.  Grancey  Lespel  to  her 
room. 

"  I  do  admire  Captain  Beauchamp's  cleverness  ;  he  is  as 
good  as  a  French  romance !"  Mrs.  Grancey  exclaimed  on  the 
stairs.  "  He  fibs  charmingly.  I  could  not  help  drawing 
him  out,  Tavo  days  !  Why,  my  dear,  his  French  party 
were  a  fortnight  in  the  country.  It  was  the  marquise,  you 
know — the  old  affair ;  and  one  may  say  he's  a  constant 
man." 

"  I  have  not  heard  Captain  Beauchamp's  cleverness  much 
praised,"  said  Cecilia.     "  This  is  your  room,  Mrs.  Grancey." 

"  Stay  with  me  a  moment.  It  is  the  room  I  like.  Are  we 
to  have  him  at  dinner  ?" 

Cecilia  did  not  suppose  that  Captain  BeauchaMp  would 
remain  to  dine.  Feeling  herself  in  the  clutches  of  a  gossip, 
she  woijld  fain  have  gone. 

"  I  am  just  one  bit  glad  of  it,  though  I  can't  dislike  him 
personally,"  said  Mrs.  Grancey,  detaining  her  and  beginniug 
to  whisper.  "  It  was  really  too  bad.  There  was  a  French 
'party  at  the  end,  but  there  was  only  owe  at  the  commence- 
ment. The  brother  was  got  over  for  a  curtain,  before  the 
husband  arrived  in  pursuit.  They  say  the  trick  Captain 
Beauchamp  played  his  cousin  Cecil,  to  get  him  out  of  the 
house  when  he  had  made  a  discovery,  was  monstrous — 
fiendishly  cunning.  However,  Lady  Romfrey,  as  that 
woman  appears  to  be  at  last,  covered  it  all.  JYovl  know  she 
has  one  of  those  passions  for  Captain  Beauchan>p  which 
completely   blind  women  to  right  and  wrong.     He  is  hfn 


A  LITTLE  PLOT  AGAINST  CECILIA.  419 

saint,  let  him  sin  ever  so !  The  storj^'s  in  everj-bodj's 
mouth,  Bj  the  way,  Palmet  saw  her.  He  describes  her 
pale  as  marble,  with  dark  long  eyes,  the  most  innocent  look 
in  the  world,  and  a  w^alk,  the  absurd  fellow  says,  like  a 
statue  set  gliding.  I^o  doubt  Frenchwomen  do  walk  well. 
He  says  her  eyes  are  terrible  traitors  ;  I  need  not  quote 
Palmet.  The  sort  of  eyes  that  would  look  fondly  on  a  stone, 
you  know.  What  her  reputation  is  in  Fiance  I  have  only 
indistinctly  heard.  She  has  one  in  England  by  this  time,  I 
can  assure  you.  She  found  her  match  in  Captain  Beau- 
champ  for  boldness.  Where  any  other  couple  would  have 
seen  danger,  they  saw  safety;  and  they  contrived  to  accom- 
plish it,  according  to  those  horrid  talebearers.  Ton  have 
plenty  of  time  to  dress,  my  dear ;  I  have  an  immense  deal 
to  talk  about.  There  are  half-a-dozen  scandals  in  London 
already,  and  you  ought  to  know  them,  or  you  will  be  behind 
the  tittle-tattle  when  you  go  to  town ;  and  I  remember,  as  a 
girl,  I  knew  nothing  so  excruciating  as  to  hear  blanks, 
dashes,  initials,  and  half  words,  without  the  key.  iSTothing 
makes  a  girl  look  so  silly  and  unpalatable.  Xatui-ally,  the 
reason  why  Captain  Beauchamp  is  more  talked  about  than 
the  rest  is  the  politics.  Your  grand  reformer  should  be 
careful.  Doubly  hetei'odox  will  not  do !  It  makes  him 
interesting  to  women,  if  you  like,  but  he  won't  soon  hear  the 
last  of  it,  if  he  is  for  a  public  career.  Grancey  literally 
crowed  at  the  story.  And  the  wonderful  part  of  it  is,  that 
Captain  Beauchamp  refused  to  be  present  at  the  earl's  first 
ceremonial  dinner  in  honour  of  his  countess.  Now,  that,  we 
all  think,  was  particularly  ungrateful :  now,  was  it  not  ?  " 

"  If  the  countess — if  ingratitude  had  anything  to  do  with 
it,"  said  Cecilia. 

She  escaped  to  her  room  and  dressed  impatiently. 

Her  boudoir  was  empty  :  Beauchamp  had  departed.  She 
recollected  his  look  at  her,  and  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the 
book  he  had  been  hastily  scanning,  and  had  condescended  to 
approve  of.  On  the  two  pages  where  the  paper-cutter  was 
fixed  she  perceived  small  pencil  dots  under  certain  words. 
Read  consecutively,  with  a  participle  termination  struck  out 
to  convey  his  meaning,  they  formed  the  pathetically 
nngrammatical  line  : — 

"Hear:  none:  but:  accused  :  false." 

Treble  dots  were  under  the  word  "  to-morrow."  He  had 
2/2 


420 

scored  the  mare'in  of  the  sentences  containing  his  dotted 
words,  as  if  in  admiration  of  their  peculiar  wisdom. 

She  thought  it  piteous  that  he  should  be  reduced  to  such 
means  of  communication.  The  next  instant  Cecilia  was 
shrinking  from  the  adept  intriguer — French- taught ! 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  her  cousin  remarked :  "  Cap- 
tain Beauchamp  must  see  merit  in  things  undiscoverable 
by  my  poor  faculties.  I  will  show  you  a  book  he  has 
marked." 

"  Did  you  see  it  ?  I  was  curious  to  examine  it,"  inter- 
po  cd  Cecilia ;  "  and  I  am  as  much  at  a  loss  as  you  to 
understand  what  could  have  attracted  him.  One  sen- 
tence ..." 

"About  the  sheikh  in  the  stables,  where  he  accused  the 
pretended  physician  ?     Yes,  what  was  there  in  that  ?  " 

"  Where  is  the  book  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Grancey. 

"  Not  here,  I  think."  Cecilia  glanced  at  the  di-awiug- 
room  book-table,  and  then  at  Mr.  Austin,  the  victim  of  an 
unhappy  love  in  his  youth,  and  unhappy  about  her,  as  her 
father  had  said.  Seymour  Austin  was  not  one  to  spread  the 
contagion  ot  intrigue  !  She  felt  herself  caught  by  it,  even 
melting  to  feel  enamoured  of  herself  in  con.s(;f|uence,  though 
not  loving  Beauchamp  the  more. 

"  This  newspaper,  if  it's  not  merely  an  airy  project,  will 
be  ruination,"  said  Tuckham.  "  The  fact  is,  Beauchamp  has 
no  bend  in  him.  He  can't  meet  a  man  without  trying  a 
wrestle,  and  as  long  as  he  keeps  his  stiiTness,  he  believes  he 
has  won.  I've  heard  an  oculist  say  that  the  eye  that  doesn't 
blink  ends  in  blindness,  and  he  who  won't  bend  breaks.  It's 
a  pity,  for  he's  a  fine  fellow.  A  Radical  daily  Journal  of 
Shrapnel's  colour,  to  educate  the  people  by  giving  them  an 
interest  in  the  country  !  Goodness,  what  a  delusion !  and 
what  a  waste  of  money  !  He'll  not  be  able  to  carry  it  on  a 
couple  of  years.     And  there  goes  his  eighty  thousand  !  " 

Cecilia's  heart  beat  fast.  She  had  no  defined  cause  for  its 
excitement. 

Colonel  Halkett  returned  to  Mount  Laurels  close  upon 
midnight,  very  tired,  coughing  and  complainiiig  of  the  bitter 
blowing  East.  His  guests  shook  hands  with  him,  and  went 
to  bed. 

"  I  think  I'll  follow  their  example,"  he  said  to  Cecilia, 
after  drinking  a  tumbler  of  mulled  wine. 


A  LITTLE  PLOT  AGAINST  CECILIA.  421 

"Have  you  nothing  to  tell  lue,  clear  papa?"  said  she, 
caressing  him  timidly. 

"  A  confirmation  of  the  whole  story  from  Lord  Romfrey 
in  person — that's  all.  He  says  Beanclmmp's  mad.  I  beein 
to  believe  it.  You  must  use  your  judgement.  I  suppose  I 
must  not  expect  jon  to  consider  mc.  You  might  open  your 
heart  to  Austin.  As  to  my  consent,  knowing  what  I  do, 
you  will  have  to  tear  it  out  of  me.  Here's  a  country  per- 
fectly contented,  and  that  fellow  at  work  digging  up 
grievances  to  persuade  the  people  they're  oppressed  by  us. 
Why  should  I  talk  of  it  ?  He  can't  do  much  harm  ;  unless 
he  has  money — money!  Romfrey  says  he  means  to  start  a 
furijus  paper.  He'll  make  a  bonfire  of  himself.  I  can't 
stand  by  and  see  you  in  it  too.  I  mn  v  die  ;  I  may  be  spared 
the  sight." 

Cecilia  flung  her  arms  round  his  neck.     "  Oh  !  papa." 

"  I  don't  want  to  make  him  out  worse  than  he  is,  my  dear. 
I  own  to  his  gallantry — in  the  French  sense  as  well  as  the 
English,  it  seems  !  It's  natural  that  Romfrey  should  excuse 
his  wife.  She's  another  of  the  women  who  are  crazy  about 
Nevil  Beauchamp.  She  spoke  tome  of  the  '  pleasant  visit 
of  her  French  friends,'  and  would  have  enlarged  on  it,  but 
Romfrey  stopped  her.  By  the  way,  he  proposes  Captain 
Baskelett  for  you,  and  were  to  look  for  Baskelett's  coming 
hci'e,  backed  by  his  iTncle.  There's  no  end  to  it ;  there  never 
Avill  be  till  you're  married  :  and  no  peace  for  me  !  I  hope  I 
shan't  find  myself  with  a  cold  to-morrow." 

The  colonel  coughed,  and  perhaps  exaggerated  the  pre- 
monitory symptoms  of  a  cold. 

"  Italy,  papa,  would  do  you  good,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  It  might,"  said  he. 

"  If  we  go  immediately,  papa  ;  to-morrow,  early  in  the 
morning,  before  there  is  a  chance  of  any  visitors  coming  to 
the  house." 

"  From  Bevisham  ?" 

"  From  Steynham.     I  cannot  endure  a  second  persecution." 

"  But  you  have  a  world  of  packing,  my  dear." 

"  An  hour  before  breakfast  will  be  sufficient  for  me." 

"  In  that  case,  we  might  be  off  early,  as  you  say,  and  have 
part  of  the  Easter  week  in  Rome." 

"  Mr.  Austin  wishes  it  greatly,  papa,  though  he  has  not 
mentioned  it." 


422 

"Austin,  my  darling  girl,  is  not  one  of  your  impatient 
men  who  burst  with  everything  they  have  in  their  heads  or 
their  hearts." 

"  Oh  !  but  I  know  him  so  well,"  said  Cecilia,  conjuring 
up  that  innocent  enthusiasm  of  hers  for  Mr.  Austin  as  an 
antidote  to  her  sharp  suffering.  The  next  minute  she  looked 
on  her  fatlier  as  the  key  of  an  enigma  concerning  Seymour 
Austin,  whom,  she  imagined,  possibly  she  had  not  hitherto 
known  at  all.  Her  cariosity  to  pierce  it  faded.  She  and 
her  maid  were  packing  through  the  night.  At  dawn  she 
requested  her  maid  to  lift  the  window-blind  and  give  her  an 
opinion  of  the  weather.  J"  Grey,  ]\liss,"  the  maid  reported. 
It  signified  to  Cecilia :  no  one  roaming  outside. 

The  step  she  was  taking  was  a  desperate  attempt  at  a 
cure  ;  and  she  commenced  it,  though  sorely  wounded,  with 
pity  for  Nevil's  disappointment,  and  a  singularly  clear-eyed 
perception  of  his  aims  and  motives. — '  I  am  rich,  and  he 
wants  riches;  he  likes  me,  and  he  reads  my  weakness.' — 
Jealousy  shook  her  by  fits,  but  she  had  no  right  to  be  jealous, 
nor  any  right  to  reproach  him.  Her  task  was  to  climb  back 
to  those  heavenly  heights  she  sat  on  before  he  distracted  her 
and  drew  her  down. 

Beauchamp  came  to  a  vacated  house  that  day. 


CHAPTER  XL VI. 

AS  IT  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN  FORESEEN. 

It  was  in  Italy  that  Cecilia's  maiden  dreams  of  life  tad 
opened.  She  hoped  to  recover  them  in  Italy,  and  the  calm 
security  of  a  mind  untainted.  Italy  was  to  be  her  reviving 
air. 

While  this  idea  of  a  siDCcific  for  her  malady  endured — 
travelling  at  speed  to  the  ridges  of  the  Italian  frontier,  across 
France — she  simply  remembered  Xevil :  he  was  distant ;  he 
had  no  place  in  the  storied  landscape,  among  the  images  of 
Art  and  the  names  of  patient  great  men  who  bear,  as  they 
bestov,  an  atmosphere  other  than  earth's  for  those  adoring 
them.     If  at  night,  in  her  sleep,  he  was  a  memory  that  con- 


AS  IT  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN  FORESEEN.  423 

dncted  lier  throngli  scenes  which  were  lightning-s,  the  cool 
swift  morning  of  her  flight  released  her.  France,  too,  her 
rival  ! — the  land  of  France,  personified  bj  her  instinctively, 
though  she  had  no  vivid  imaginative  gift,  did  not  wound 
her  with  a  poisoned  dart. — '  She  knew  him  first :  she  was 
his  first  love.'  The  Alps,  and  the  sense  of  having  Italy 
below  them,  renewed  Cecilia's  lofty-perching  youth.  Then 
- — I  am  in  Italy  !  she  sighed  with  rapture.  The  wine  of 
delight  and  oblivion  was  at  her  lips. 

But  thirst  is  not  enjoyment,  and  a  satiated  thirst  that  we 
insist  on  over-satisfying  to  drown  the  recollection  of  past 
anguish,  is  baneful  to  the  soul.  In  Rome  Cecilia's  vision  of 
her  track  to  Rome  was  of  a  run  of  fire  over  a  heath.  She 
could  scarcely  feel  common  pleasure  in  Rome.  It  seemed 
burnt  out. 

Flung  back  on  herself,  she  was  condemned  to  undergo 
the  bitter  toi^ment  she  had  flown  from :  jealous  love,  and 
reproachful;  and  a  shame  in  it  like  nothing  she  had  yet 
experienced.  Previous  pains  were  but  Summer  lightnings, 
passing  shadows.  She  could  have  believed  in  sorcery  : — the 
man  had  eaten  her  heart ! 

A  disposition  to  mocking  humour,  foreign  to  her  nature, 
gave  her  the  notion  of  being  oft'  her  feet,  in  the  claws  of  a 
fabulous  bird.  It  served  to  veil  her  dulness.  An  ultra- 
English  family  in  Rome,  composed,  shocking  to  relate,  of  a 
baronet  banker  and  his  wife,  two  faint-faced  girls,  and  a 
young  gentleman  of  our  country,  once  perhaps  a  light-limbed 
boy,  chose  to  be  followed  by  their  footman  in  the  melancholy 
pomp  of  state  livery.  Wherever  she  encountered  them 
Cecilia  talked  Xevil  Beauchamp.  Even  Mr.  Tuckham  per- 
ceived it.  She  wa<s  extremely  uncharitable  :  she  extended 
her  ungenerous  criticism  to  the  institution  of  the  footman  : 
England,  and  the  English,  were  lashed. 

"  Those  people  are  caricatures,"  Tuckham  said,  in  apology 
for  poor  England  burlesqued  abroad.  "You  must  not  gene- 
ralize on  them.  Footmen  are  footmen  all  the  world  over. 
The  cardinals  have  a  fine  set  of  footmen." 

"  They  are  at  home.  Those  English  sow  contempt  of  us 
all  over  Europe.  We  cannot  but  be  despised. .  One  comes 
abroad  foredoomed  to  share  the  sentiment.  This  is  your 
middle-class  !     What  society  can  they  move  in,  that  sanctions 


424  BEAUCFAMP'S  CAREER. 

a  vulgarity  so  perplexing  ?  They  have  the  air  of  ornaments 
on  a  cottager's  parlour  mantelpiece." 

Tuckham  laughed.     "  Something  of  that,"  he  said. 

"  Evidently  they  seek  distinction,  and  they  have  it,  of  that 
kind,"  she  continued.  ^It  is  not  wonderful  that  we  have  so 
much  satirical  writing  in  England,  with  such  objects  of 
satire.  It  may  be  as  little  wonderful  that  the  satire  has  no 
effect.  Immense  wealth  and  native  obtuseness  combine  to 
disfigure  us  with  this  aspect  of  over-ripeness,  not  to  say  mon- 
strosity. I  fall  in  love  with  the  poor,  and  think  they  have  a 
cause  to  be  pleaded,  when  I  look  at  those  people.  We  scoff 
at  the  vanity  of  the  French,  but  it  is  a  graceful  vanity;  par- 
donable compared  with  ours." 

"  I've  read  all  that  a  hundred  times,"  quoth  Tuckham 
bluntly. 

"  So  liave  I.  I  speak  of  it  because  I  see  it.  We  scoff  at 
the  simplicity  of  the  Germans." 

"  The  Germans  live  in  simple  fashion,  because  they're  poor. 
French  vanity's  pretty  and  amusing.  I  don't  know  whether 
it's  deep  in  them,  for  I  doubt  their  depth  ;  but  I  know  it's  in 
their  joints.  The  first  spring  of  a  Ficnchman  comes  of 
vanity.  Tbat  you  can't  say  of  the  English.  Peace  to  all ! 
but  I  abhor  cosmopolitanism.  No  man  has  a  firm  foothold 
who  pretends  to  it.  None  despise  the  English  in  reality. 
Don't  be  misled,  Miss  Halkett.  We're  solid  :  that  is  the 
main  point.  The  world  feels  our  power,  and  has  confidence 
in  our  good  faith.     I  ask  for  no  more." 

'i  "  With  Germans  we  are  supercilious  Celts  ;  with  French- 
men we  are  sneering  Teutons : — Can  we  be  loved,  Mr. 
Tuckham  ?" 

"  That's  a  quotation  from  my  friend  Lydiard.  Loved  ? 
No  nation  ever  was  levied  while  it  lived.  As  Lydiard  says, 
it  may  be  a  good  beast  or  a  bad,  but  a  beast  it  is.  A  nation's 
much  too  big  for  refined  feelings  and  affections.  It  must  be 
powerful  or  out  of  the  way,  or  down  it  goes.  When  a  nation's 
dead  you  may  love  it ;  but  I  don't  see  the  use  of  dying  to  be 
loved.  My  aim  for  my  country  is  to  have  the  land  respected. 
For  that  purpose  we  must  have  power;  for  power  wealth; 
for  Avealth  industry  ;  for  industry  internal  peace  :  therefore 
no  agitation,  no  artificial  divisions.  All's  plain  in  history 
and  fact,  so  long  as  we  do  not  obtrude  scntimentalism 
Nothing  mixes  well  with  that  stuff — except  poetical  ideas  !"' 


AS  IT  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN  EOEESEEN.  425 

Contrary  to  her  anticipation,  Cecilia  was  thrown  mora 
into  companionship  with  Mr.  Tuckham  than  with  Mr. 
Austin;  and  though  it  often  vexed  hei-,  she  acknowledged 
that  she  derived  a  benefit  from  his  robust  antagonism  of 
opinion.  And  Italv  had  grown  tasteless  to  her.  She  could 
hardly  simulate  sufficient  curiosity  to  serve  for  a  vacant 
echo  to  Mr.  Austin's  histoiic  ardour,  "^liny  the  Younger 
might  indeed  be  the  model  of  a  gentleman  of  old  Rome; 
there  might  be  a  scholarly  pleasure  in  calculating,  as  Mr. 
Austin  did,  the  length  of  time  it  took  Pliny  to  journey  from 
the  city  to  his  paternal  farm,  or  villa  overlooking  the  lake, 
or  villa  overlooking  the  bay,  and  some  abstruse  fun  in  the 
tender  ridicule  of  his  readings  of  his  poems  to  friends ;  for 
Mr.  Austin  smiled  effusively  in  alluding  to  the  illustrious 
Roman  pleader's  foible  of  verse :  but  Pliny  bore  no  resem- 
blance to  that  island  barbarian  N'evil  Beauchamp :  she  could 
not  realize  the  friend  of  Trajan,  oratnr,  lawyer,  student, 
statesman,  benefactor  of  his  kind,  and  model  of  her  own 
modern  English  gentleman,  though  he  was.  "  Yes  !"  she 
would  reply  encouragingly  to  Seymour  Austin's  fond  brood- 
ing hum  about  his  hero  ;  and  "  Yes  ! "  conclusively  :  like 
an  incarnation  of  stupidity  dealing  in  monosyllables.  She 
was  unworthy  of  the  society  of  a  scholar.,  Nor  could  she 
kneel  at  the  feet  of  her  especial  heroes  r'^  Dante,  Raphael, 
Buonarotti  :  she  was  unworthy  of  them.  She  longed  to  be  at 
}ktount  Laurels.  Mr.  Tuckham's  conversation  was  the  nearest 
approach  to  it — as  it  were  round  by  Grreenland ;  but  it  was 
homeward. 

She  was  really  grieved  to  lose  him.  Business  called  him 
to  England. 

"  What  business  can  it  be,  papa  r"  she  inquired:  and  the 
colonel  replied  briefly  :  "  Ours." 

Mr.  Austin  now  devoted  much  of  his  time  to  the  instruc- 
tion of  her  in  the  ancient  life  of  the  Eternal  City.  He  had 
cei'tain  volumes  of  Livy,  ITiebuhr,  and  Cxibbon,  from  which 
he  read  her  extracts  at  night,  shunning  the  scepticism  and 
the  irony  of  the  moderns,  so  that  there  should  be  no  jar  on 
the  awakening  interest  of  his  fair  pupil  and  patient.  A 
gentle  cross-hauling  ensued  between  them,  that  they  grew 
conscious  of  and  laughed  over  during  their  peregrinations 
in  and  out  of  Rome :  she  pulled  for  the  Republic  of  the 
Scipios ;    his   predilections  were  toward  the  Rome  of  the 


426  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

•wise  and  clement  emperors.  To  Cecilia's  mind  Rome  rocked 
at  a  period  so  closely  neighbouring  her  decay :  to  him,  with 
an  imagination  brooding  on  the  fullei  knowledge  of  it,  the 
city  breathed  securely,  the  sky  was  clear  ;  jurisprudence, 
rhetoric,  statesmanship,  then  flourished  supreme,  and  men 
eminent  for  culture  :  the;  finest  flowers  of  our  race,  he 
thought  them :  and  he  thought  their  Age  the  manhood  of 
Rome. 

Struck  suddenly  by  a  feminine  subtle  comparison  that 
she  could  not  have  framed  in  speech,  Cecilia  bowed  to  his 
views  of  the  happiness  and  elevation  proper  to  the  sway  of 
a  sagacious  and  magnanimous  Imperialism  of  the  Roman 
pattern : — he  rejected  the  French.  She  mused  on  dim  old 
thoughts  of  the  gracious  dignity  of  a  woman's  life  under 
high  governorship.  Turbulent  young  men  imperilled  it  at 
every  step.  The  trained,  the  grave,  the  partly  grey,  were 
fitting  lords  and  mates  for  women  aspiring  to  moi-al  beauty 
and  distinction.  Beside  such  they  should  be  planted,  ii' 
they  would  climb !  Her  walks  and  conversations  with 
Seymour  Austin  charmed  her  as  the  liaze  of  a  summer  even- 
ing charms  the  sight. 

Upon  the  conclusion  of  her  term  of  exile  Cecilia  v/ould 
gladly  have  remained  in  Italy  anothei'  month.  An  appoint- 
ment of  her  father's  with  Mr.  Tuckham  at  Mount  Laurels 
on  a  particular  day,  she  considered  as  of  no  consequence 
whatever,  and  she  said  so,  in  response  to  a  meaningless  nod. 
But  Mr.  Austin  was  obliged  to  return  to  work.  She  set  her 
face  homeward  with  his  immediately,  and  he  looked  pleased: 
he  did  not  try  to  dissuade  her  from  accompanying  him  by 
affecting  to  think  it  a  sacrifice:  clearly  he  knew  that  to  be 
near  him  was  her  greatest  delight. 

Thus  do  we  round  the  perilous  headland  called  love :  by 
wooing  a  good  man  for  his  friendship,  and  requiting  him 
with  faithful  esteem  for  the  grief  of  an  ill-fortuned  passion 
of  his  youth  ! 

Cecilia  would  not  suffer  her  fancy  to  go  very  far  in  pur- 
suit of  the  secret  of  Mr.  Austin's  present  feelings.  Until 
she  reached  ]\Iount  Laurels  she  barely  examined  her  own. 
The  sight  of  the  house  warned  her  instantly  that  she  must 
■have  a  defence:  and  then,  in  desperation  but  with  perfect 
distinctness,  she  entertained  the  hope  of  hearing  him  speali 


AS  IT  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN  FORESEEN.  427 

tte  protecting  words  which  could  not  be  broken  through 
when  wedded  to  her  consent. 

If  Mr.  Anstin  had  no  intentions,  it  was  at  least  strange 
that  he  did  not  part  from  her  in  London. 

He  whose  coming  she  dreaded  had  been  made  aware  of 
the  hour  of  her  return,  as  his  card,  with  the  pencilled  line, 
"  Will  call  on  the  17th,"  informed  her.  The  17th  was  the 
morrow. 

After  breakfast  on  the  morning  of  the  17th  Seymour 
Austin  looked  her  in  the  eyes  longer  than  it  is  customary 
for  ladies  to  have  to  submit  to  keen  insiDection. 

"  Will  you  come  into  the  library  ?"  he  said. 

She  went  with  him  into  the  library. 

Was  it  to  speak  of  his  anxiousness  as  to  the  state  of  her 
father's  health  that  he  had  led  her  there,  and  that  he  held 
her  hand  ?  He  alarmed  her,  and  he  pacified  her  alarm,  yet 
bade  her  reflect  on  the  matter,  saying  that  her  father,  like 
other  fathers,  would  be  more  at  peace  upon  the  establish- 
ment of  his  daughter.  Mr.  Austin  remarked  that  the 
colonel  was  troubled. 

"  Does  he  wish  for  my  pledge  never  to  marry  without  his 
approval  ?     I  will  give  it,"  said  Cecilia. 

"  He  would  like  you  to  undertake  to  marry  the  man  of  his 
choice." 

Cecilia's  features  hung  on  an  expression  equivalent  to  : — 
"I  could  almost  do  that." 

At  the  same  time  she  felt  it  was  not  Sej^mour  Austin's 
manner  of  speaking,  He  seemed  to  be  praising  an  unknown 
person — some  gentleman  who  was  rough,  but  of  solid  pro- 
mise and  singular  strength  of  character. 

The  house-bell  rang.  Believing  that  Beauchamp  had  now 
come,  she  showed  a  painful  ridging  of  the  brows,  and  Mr. 
Austin  considerately  mentioned  the  name  of  the  person  he 
liad  in  his  mind. 

She  readily  agreed  with  him  regarding  Mr.  Tuckham's 
excellent  qualities — if  that  was  indeed  the  name  ;  and  she 
iiastened  to  recollect  how  little  she  had  forgotten  Mr.  Tuck- 
ham's generosity  to  Beauchamp,  and  confessed  to  herself  it 
might  as  well  have  been  forgotten  utterly  for  the  thanks  he 
had  received.  While  revolving  these  ideas  she  was  listening 
to  Mr,  Austin ;  gradually  she  was  beginning  to  understand 
that  she  was  parting  company  with  her  original  conjectures, 


428 

but  going  at  so  swift  a  pace  in  so  supple  and  sure  a  grasp, 
that,  like  the  speeding  train  slipped  on  new  lines  of  rails  by 
the  pointsman,  her  hurr^^ing  sensibility  was  not  shocked,  or 
the  shock  was  imperceptible,  when  she  heard  him  proposing 
Mr.  Tuckham  to  her  for  a  husband,  by  her  father's  authority, 
and  with  his  own  warm  seconding.  He  had  not  dropped 
her  hand  :  he  was  very  eloquent,  a  masterly  advocate  :  he 
pleaded  her  father's  cause  ;  it  was  not  put  to  her  as  Mr. 
Tuckham's  :  her  father  had  set  his  heart  on  this  union :  he 
was  awaiting  her  decision. 

"  Is  it  so  urgent  ?"  she  asked. 

"  It  is  urgent.  It  saves  him  from  an  annoyance.  He 
requires  a  son-in-law  whom  he  can  confidently  rely  on  to 
manage  the  estates,  which  you  are  woman  of  the  world 
enough  to  know  sV.ould  be  in  strong  hands.  He  gives  you 
to  a  man  of  settled  principles.  It  is  urgent,  because  he  may 
wish  to  be  armed  with  your  answer  at  any  instant." 

Her  father  entered  the  librarv.  He  embraced  her,  and 
"Well?"  he  said. 

"I  must  think,  papa,  I  must  think." 

She  pressed  her  hand  across  her  eyes.  Disillusioned  by 
Seymour  Austin,  she  was  utterly  defenceless  before  Beau- 
champ  :  and  possibly  Beaucliamp  was  in  the  house.  She 
fancied  he  was,  by  the  impatient  brevity  of  her  father's 
voice 

Sej^mour  Austin  and  Colonel  Halkett  left  the  room,  and 
Blackburn  Tuckham  walked  in,  not  the  most  entirely  self- 
possessed  of  suitors,  puffing  softly  under  his  breath,  and 
blinking  eyes  as  rapidly  as  a  skylark  claps  wings  on  the 
ascent. 

Half  an  hour  later  Beaucliamp  appeared.  He  asked  to 
see  the  colonel,  delivered  himself  of  his  pretensions  and 
wishes  to  the  colonel,  and  was  referred  to  Cecilia ;  but 
Colonel  Halkett  declined  to  send  for  her.  Beaucliamp 
declined  to  postpone  his  proposal  until  the  following  day. 
He  went  outside  the  house  and  walked  np  and  down  the 
grass-plot. 

Cecilia  came  to  him  at  last. 

"  I  hear,  ;N"evil,  that  you  are  waiting  to  speak  to  me.'* 

"  I've  been  waiting  some  weeks.     Shall  I  speak  here  ?** 

"Yes,  here,  quickly." 


THE  RFTTTSAL  OF  HTM.  429 

**  Before  the  house  ?     I  have  come  to  ask  yon  for  vonr 
hand." 

"Mine?     I  cannot  .   .   .  ." 

"  Step  into  the  park  with  me.     I  ask  jou  to  marrj  me." 

"  It  is  too  late." 


CHAPTER  XL VII. 


THE     REFUSAL     OF     HIM. 


Passing  from  one  scene  of  excitement  to  another.  Cecilia 
was  perfectly  steeled  for  her  bitter  task  ;  and  having  done 
that  which  separated  her  a  sphere's  distance  from  Beau- 
champ,  she  was  cold,  inaccessible  to  the  face  of  him  who  had 
swayed  her  on  flood  and  ebb  so  long,  incapable  of  tender 
pity,  even  for  herself.  All  she  could  feel  was  a  hai'sh  joy 
to  have  struck  oJf  her  tyrant's  fetters,  with  a  determination 
to  cherish  it  passionately  lest  she  should  presently  be  Latino- 
herself :  for  the  shadow  of  such  a  possibility  fell  within  the 
narrow  circle  of  her  strung  sensations.  But  for  the  moment 
her  delusion  reached  to  the  idea  that  she  had  escaped  from 
him  into  freedom,  when  she  said,  "  It  is  too  late.'  Those 
words  were  the  sum  and  voice  of  her  long  term  of  endurance. 
She  said  them  hurriedly,  almost  in  a  wliisper,  in  the  manner 
of  one  changing  a  theme  of  conversation  for  subjects  happier 
and  livelier,  though  none  followed. 

The  silence  bore  back  on  her  a  suspicion  of  a  faint 
reproachfulness  in  the  words  ;  and  perhaps  they  carried  a 
poetical  tone,  still  more  distasteful. 

"You  have  been  listening  to  tales  of  me,"  said  Beau- 
champ. 

"  Xevil,  we  can  always  be  friends,  the  best  of  friends." 

"Were  you  astonished  at  my  asking  you  for  your  hand? 
You  said  '  mine  r'  as  if  you  wondered.  You  have  known  my 
feelings  for  you.  Can  you  deny  that  ?  I  have  reckoned 
on  yours — too  long  ? — But  not  falsely  ?  'No,  hear  me  out. 
The  truth  is,  I  cannot  lose  you.  And  don't  look  so  resolute. 
Overlook  little  wounds  :    I   was  never    indilferent  to    vou. 


430  BEAUCHAMP''S  CAREEE. 

How  could  I  be — witli  eyes  in  my  head?  The  colonel  is 
opposed  to  me  of  course  :  he  will  learn  to  understand  me 
better :  but  you  and  I !  we  cannot  be  mere  friends.  It's 
like  daylight  blotted  out — or  the  eyes  gone  blind  : — Too 
late  ?  Can  you  repeat  it  ?  I  tried  to  warn  you  before  you 
left  England :  I  should  have  written  a  letter  to  put  you  on 
your  guard  against  my  enemies  : — I  find  I  have  some  :  but 
a  letter  is  sure  to  stumble ;  I  should  have  been  obliged  to 
tell  you  that  I  do  not  stand  on  my  defence;  aud  I  thought 
I  should  see  you  the  next  day.  You  went :  and  not  a  word 
for  me  !  You  gave  me  no  chance.  If  you  have  no  confidence 
in  me  I  must  bear  it.  I  may  say  the  story  is  false.  With 
your  hand  in  mine  I  would  swear  it." 

"  Let  it  be  forgotten,"  said  Cecilia,  surprised  and  shaken 
to  think  that  her  situation  required  further  explanations ; 
fascinated  and  unnerved  by  simply  hearing  him.  "  We  are 
now — we  are  walking  away  from  the  house." 

'•  Do  you  object  to  a  walk  with  me  ?" 

She  did  not  answer. 

They  had  crossed  the  garden  ])kit  and  were  at  the  gate  of 
the  park  leading  to  the  Western  wo  )d.  Beauchamp  swurl' 
the  gate  open.  He  east  a  look  at  t  lu  clouds  coming  up  from 
the  South-west  in  folds  of  grey  and  silver. 

"  Like  the  day  of  our  drive  into  Bevisham  ! — Avithout  the 
storm  behind,"  he  said,  and  doated  on  her  soft  shut  lips,  and 
the  mild  sun-rays  of  her  hair  in  sunless  light.  ''  There  ai-e 
flowers  that  grow  only  in  certain  valleys,  and  your  home  is 
Mount  Laurels,  whatever  your  fancy  may  be  for  Italy.  You 
colour  the  whole  region  for  me.  When  you  were  absent,  yon 
were  here.  I  called  here  six  times,  and  walked  and  talked 
with  you." 

Cecilia  set  her  face  to  the  garden.  Her  heart  had  entered 
on  a  course  of  heavy  thumping,  like  a  sapper  in  the  mine. 

Pain  was  not  unwelcome  to  her,  but  this  threatened  weak- 
ness. 

What  plain  words  could  she  use  ?  If  Mr.  Tuckham  had 
been  away  from  the  house  she  would  have  found  it  easier  to 
speak  of  her  engagement ;  she  knew  not  why.  Or  if  the 
imperative  communication  could  have  been  delivered  in 
Italian  or  French,  she  was  as  little  able  to  say  why  it  would 
have  slipped  from  her  tongue  without  a  ci-itic  shudder  to 
arrest  it.       She    was    cold    enough    to  revolve  the    words  : 


THE  EEFUSAL  OF  HIM.  431 

betrotlied,  affianced,  plighted:  and  reject  them, pretty  words 
as  they  are.  Between  the  vulgarity  of  romantic  language, 
and  the  baldness  of  common-place,  it  seemed  to  her  that  our 
English  gives  us  no  choice  ;*^hat  we  cannot  be  dignified  in 
simplicity.  And  for  some  reason,  feminine  nnd  remote,  she 
now  detested  her  '  hand  '  so  much  as  to  be  unable  to  bring 
herself  to  the  metonymic  mention  of  it.  The  lady's  difficulty 
was  peculiar  to  sweet  natures  that  have  no  great  warmth  of 
passion  ;  it  can  only  be  indicated.  Like  others  of  the  kind, 
it  is  traceable  to  the  most  delicate  of  sentiments,  and  to  the 
flattest  : — for  Mr.  Blackburn  Tuckham's  tigure  was  (she 
thought  of  it  with  no  personal  objection)  not  of  the  graceful 
order,  neither  cavalierly  nor  kingly  :  and  imagining  herself 
to  say,  "  I  am  engaged,"  and  he  suddenly  appearing  on  the 
field,  Cecilia's  whole  mind  was  shocked:  in  so  marked  a 
way  did  he  contrast  with  Beauchamp. 

This  was  the  effect  of  Beauchamp's  latest  words  on  her. 
He  had  disarmed  her  anger. 

"  We  must  have  a  walk  to-day,"  he  said  commandingly, 
but  it  had  stolen  into  him  that  he  and  she  were  not  walking 
on  the  same  bank  of  the  river,  though  they  were  side  by 
side  :  a  chill  water  ran  between  them.  As  in  other  days, 
there  hung  her  hand  :  but  not  to  be  taken.  Incredible  as  it 
was,  the  icy  sense  of  his  having  lost  her  benumbed  him. 
Her  beautiful  face  and  beautiful  tall  figure,  so  familiar  to 
him  that  they  were  like  a  possession,  protested  in  his  favour 
while  they  snatched  her  from  him  all  the  distance  of  the 
words  '  too  late.' 

"  Will  you  not  give  me  one  half-hour  ?  " 

"  I  am  engaged,"  Cecilia  plunged  and  extricated  herself, 
"  I  am  engaged  to  walk  with  Mr.  Austin  and  papa." 

Beauchamp  tossed  his  head.  Something  induced  him  to 
speak  of  Mr.  Tuckham.  "  The  colonel  has  discovered  his 
Tory  young  man !  It's  an  object  as  incomprehensible  to  me 
as  a  Tory  working-man.  I  suppose  I  must  take  it  that  they 
exist.  As  for  Blackburn  Tuckham,  I  have  nothing  against 
him.  He's  an  honourable  fellow  enough,  and  would  govern 
Great  Britain  as  men  of  that  rich  middle-class  rule  their 
wives — with  a  strict  regard  for  ostensible  humanity  and 
what  the  law  allows  them.  His  manners  have  improved. 
Your  cousin  Mary  seems  to  like  him :  it  struck  me  when  I 
saw  them  together.     Cecilia !    one  half-hour  !     You  refuse 


432  BEAUCHAMP''S  CAREER. 

me:    you  have    not  heard    me.       You   will   not    sav   too 
late." 

"  ISTevil,  I  have  said  it  finally.     I  have  no  longer  the  right 
to  conceive  it  unsaid." 

"  So  we  speak  !  It's  the  language  of  indolence,  temper, 
faint  hearts.  '  Too  late  '  has  no  meaning.  Turn  back  with 
me  to  the  park.  I  offer  you  my  whole  heart ;  I  love  yon. 
There's  no  woman  living  who  could  be  to  me  the  wife  you 
would  be.  I'm  like  your  male  nightingale  that  you  told  me 
of :  I  must  have  my  mate  to  sing  to — that  is,  work  for  and 
live  for  ;  and  she  mast  not  delay  too  long.  Did  I?  Pardon 
me  if  you  think  I  did.  You  have  known  I  love  you.  I 
have  been  distracted  by  things  that  kept  me  from  thinking 
of  myself  and  my  wishes  :-^and  love's  a  selfish  business  while 
j.  .  .  .  while  one  has  work  in  hand.  It's  clear  I  can't  do 
/  bwo  things  at  a  time — make  love  and  carry  on  my  ta<^k- 
work.  I  have  been  idle  for  weeks.  I  believed  you  were 
mine  and  wanted  no  lovemaking.  There's  no  folly  in  that, 
if  you  understand  me  at  all.  As  for  vanity  about  women, 
I've  outlived  it.  In  comparison  wnth  you  I'm  poor,  I  know  : 
— you  look  distressed,  but  one  has  to  allude  to  it : — I  admit 
that  wealth  would  help  me.  To  see  wealth  supporting  the 
cause  of  the  people  for  once  would — but  you  say,  too  late  ! 
Well,  I  don't  renounce  you  till  I  see  you  giving  your  hand  to 
a  man  who's  not  mj'self .  You  have  been  offended  :  ground- 
lessly,  on  my  honour !  You  are  the  woman  of  all  women  in 
the  world  to  hold  me  fast  in  faith  and  pride  in  you.  It's 
useless  to  look  icy  :  you  feel  what  I  say." 

"Nevil,  I  feel  grief,  and  beg  you  to  cease.  I  am  .... 
It  is " 

"  '  Too  late  '  has  not  a  rag  of  meaning,  Cecilia  !  I  love 
your  name.  I  love  this  too :  this  is  mine,  and  no  one  can 
rob  me  of  it." 

He  drew  forth  a  golden  locket  and  showed  her  a  curl  of 
hei  hair. 

Crimsoning,  she  said  instantly  :  ''  Language  of  the  kind 
I  used  is  ojDen  to  misconstruction,  I  fear.  I  have  not  even 
the  right  to  listen  to  you.  I  am  .  .  .  You  ask  me  for  what 
I  have  it  no  longer  in  my  power  to  give.  I  am  engaged." 
'  The  shot  rang  through  him  and  j^artly  stunned  him;  but 
incredulity   made   a   mocking   effort   to  sustain   him.     The 


THE  REFUSAL  OP  HIM.  433 

^eater  wounds  do  not  immediately  convince  us  of  our  fate, 
though  we  may  be  conscious  that  we  have  been  hit. 

"  Engaged  in  earnest  ?"  said  he. 

"  Tes." 

«*  Of  your  free  will  ?** 

«  Yes." 

Her  father  stepped  out  on  the  terrace,  from  one  of  the 
open  windows,  trailing  a  newspaper  like  a  pocket  handker- 
chief.    Cecilia  threaded  the  flower-beds  to  meet  him. 

"  Here's  an  accident  to  one  of  our  ironclads,"  he  called  to 
Beauchamp. 

"  Lives  lost,  sir  ?" 

*'  N"o,  thank  heaven  !  but,  upon  my  word,  it's  a  warning. 
Read  the  telegram ;  it's  the  Hastings.  If  these  are  oui* 
defences,  at  a  cost  of  half  a  million  of  money,  each  of  them, 
the  sooner  we  look  to  our  land  forces  the  better." 

"  The  Shop  will  not  be  considered  safe  !"  said  Beauchamp, 
taking  in  the  telegram  at  a  glance.  "  Peppel's  a  first-i'ate 
officer  too :  she  couldn't  have  had  a  better  captain.  Ship 
seriously  damaged  !" 

He  handed  back  the  paper  to  the  colonel. 

Cecilia  expected  him  to  say  that  he  had  foreseen  such  an 
event. 

He  said  nothing ;  and  with  a  singular  contraction  of  the 
heart  she  recollected  how  he  had  denounced  our  system  of 
preparing  mainly  for  the  defensive  in  war,  on  a  day  when 
they  stood  together  in  the  park,  watching  the  slow  pasr  age 
of  that  very  ship,  the  Hastings,  along  the  broad  water, 
distant  below  them.  The  '  sicarms  of  swift  vessels  of  attack,* 
she  recollected  particp-larly,  and  '  small  wasps  and  rams  under 
mighty  steam-poiver,'  that  he  used  to  harp  on  when  declaring 
that  England  must  be  known  for  the  assailant  in  war  :  she 
was  to  '  ray  out '  her  worrying  fleets.  '  The  defensive  is 
perilous  policy  in  war ;'  he  had  said  it.  She  recollected  also 
her  childish  ridicule  of  his  excess  of  emphasis  :  he  certainly 
had  foresight. 

Mr.  Austin  and  Mr.  Tuckham  came  strolling  in  conversa- 
tion round  the  house  to  the  terrace.  Beauchamp  bowed  to 
the  former,  nodded  to  the  latter,  scrutinizing  him  after  he 
had  done  so,  as  if  the  flash  of  a  thought  were  in  his  mind. 
Tuckham's  radiant  aspect  possibly  excited  it:  "Congratulate 
me  1"  was  the  honest  outcry  of  his  face  and  frame.     He  was 

2f 


434  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

as  overflowingly  rosy  as  a  victorious  candidate  at  tlie  linstings 
commencing  a  speech.  Cecilia  laid  her  hand  on  an  Tirn,  in 
dread  of  the  next  words  from  either  of  the  persons  present. 
Her  father  put  an  arm  in  hers,  and  leaned  on  her.  She  gazed 
at  her  chamber  window  above,  wishing  to  be  wafted  thither 
to  her  seclusion  within.  The  trembling  limbs  of  physical 
irresoluteness  was  a  new  experience  to  her. 

"  Anything  else  in  the  paper,  colonel  ?  IVe  not  seen  it 
to-day,"  said  Beauchamp,  for  the  sake  of  speaking. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  there's  anything,"  Colonel  Halkett 
replied.  "  Our  diplomatists  haven't  been  shining  much : 
that's  not  our  forte." 

"  IS'o  :  it's  our  field  for  younger  sons." 

"  Is  it  ?  Ah  !  ^There's  an  expedition  against  the  hill- 
tribes  in  India,  and  we're  such  a  peaceful  nation,  eh  ?  We 
look  as  if  we  were  in  for  a  complication  with  China." 

"  Well,  sir,  we  must  sell  our  opium." 

"  Of  course  w^e  must.  There's  a  man  writing  about  sur- 
rendering Gibraltar!" 

•'I'm  afraid  we  can't  do  that." 

"  But  where  do  you  draw  the  line  ?"  quoth  Tuckham, 
very  susceptible  to  a  sneer  at  the  colonel,  and  entirely 
ignorant  of  the  circumstances  attending  Beauchamp's  posi- 
tion before  him.  "  You  defend  the  Chinaman ;  and  it's 
questionable  if  his  case  is  as  good  as  the  Spaniard's." 

"  The  Chinaman  has  a  case  against  our  traders.  Gibraltar 
concerns  our  imperial  policy." 

"  As  to  the  case  against  the  English  merchants,  the  China- 
man is  for  shutting  up  his  millions  of  acres  of  productive 
land,  and  tbe  action  of  commerce  is  merely  a  declaration  of 
a  universal  public  right,  to  which  all  States  must  submit." 
^  "  Immorality  brings  its  punishment,  be  sure  of  that.  Some 
day  we  shall  have  enough  of  China.  As  to  the  Hock,  I  know 
the  argument ;  I  may  be  wrong.  I've  had  the  habit  of 
regarding  it  as  necessary  to  our  naval  supremacy." 

"  Come  !  there  we  agree" 

"  I'm  not  so  certain." 

"  The  counter-argument,  I  call  treason." 

"Well,"  said  Beauchamp,  "  there's  a  broad  policy,  and  a 
narrow.  There's  the  Spanish  view  of  the  matter — if  you  are 
for  peace  and  harmony  and  disarmament.'* 

"I'm  not." 


THE  EEFUSAL  OF  HIM.  435 

"  Then  strengthen  your  forces." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it!" 

"Then  bully  the  feeble  and  truckle  to  the  strong;  consent 
to  be  hated  till  you  have  to  stand  jonv  ground." 

"  Talk  !" 

"  It  seems  to  me  logical." 

"  That's  the  French  notion — c'est  lodofique  !'* 

•Tuckham's  pronunciation  caused  Cecilia  to  level  her  eyes 
at.  him  passingly. 

"  By  the  ^vay,"  said  Colonel  Halkett,  "  there  are  lots  oE 
horrors  in  the  paper  to-day  ;  wife  kickings,  and  starvations 
— oh,  dear  me  !  and  the  murder  of  a  woman  :  two  colamns 
to  that." 

"  That,  the  Tory  reaction  is  responsible  for!"  said  Tuck- 
ham,  rather  by  way  of  a  joke  than  a  challenge. 

Beauchamp  accepted  it  as  a  challenge.  Much  to  the 
benevolent  amusement  of  Mr.  Austin  and  Colonel  Halkett, 
he  charged  the  responsibility  of  every  crime  committed  m 
the  country,  and  erery  condition  of  misery,  upon  the  party 
which  declined  to  move  in  advance,  and  which  therefore 
apologized  for  the  perpetuation  of  knavery,  villany,  brutality, 
injustice,  and  foul  dealing. 

"  Stick  to  your  laws  and  systems  and  institutions,  and  so 
long  as  you  won't  stir  to  amend  them,  I  hold  you  accountable 
for  that  long  newspaper  list  daily." 

He  said  this  with  a  visible  fire  of  convictioi 

Tuckham  stood  bursting  at  the  monstrou  ne^s  of  such  a 
statement. 

"He  condensed  his  indignant  rejoinder  to:  "  Madness  can't 
go  farther!" 

"  There's  an  idea  in  it,"  said  Mr.  Austin. 

"It's  an  idea  foaming  at  the  mouth,  then  !'* 

"Perhaps  it  has  no  worse  fault  than  that  of  not  marching 
parallel  with  the  truth,"  said  Mr.  Austin  smiling.  "  The 
party  accusing  in  those  terms  ....  what  do  you  say, 
Captain  Beauchamp  ? — supposing  us  to  be  pleading  before 
a  tribunal  ?" 

Beauchamp  admitted  as  much  as  that  he  had  made  the 
case  gigantic,  though  he  stuck  to  his  charge  against  the 
Tory  party.  And  moreover :  the  Tories^ — and  the  old  Whigs, 
now  Liberals,  ranked  under  the  heading  of  Tories — those 
Tories  possessing  and  representing  the  wealth  of  the  countrvi 

2  F  2 


43H 

yet  had  not  started  one  respectable  journal  that  a  lady  could 
read  through  without  offence  to  her,  or  a  gentleman  without 
disgust!  ''If  there  was  not  one  English  newspaper  in  exist- 
ence independent  of  circulation  and  advertisements,  and  of 
the  tricks  to  win  them,  the  Tories  were  answerable  for  the 
vacancy.  They,  being  the  rich  who,  if  they  chose,  could 
set  an  example  to  our  Press  by  subscribing  to  maintain  a 
Journal  sujDcrior  to  the  flattering  of  vile  appetites — "  all  that 
nauseous  matter,"  Beauchamp  stretched  his  finger  at  the 
sheets  Colonel  Halkett  was  holding,  and  which  he  had  not 
read — "  those  Tories,"  he  bowed  to  the  colonel,  "  I'm  afraid 
I  must  say  you,  sir,  are  answerable  for  it." 

"  I  am  very  well  satisfied  with  my  paper,"  said  the 
colonel . 

Beauchamp  sighed  to  himself.  "  We  choose  to  be  satisfied," 
he  said.  His  pure  and  mighty  Dawx  was  in  his  thoughts  • 
the  unborn  light  of  a  day  denied  to  earth  ! 

One  of  the  doctors  ot  Bevishara,  visiting  a  sick  maid  of 
the  house,  trotted  up  the  terrace  to  make  his  report  to  her 
master  of  the  state  of  her  health.  He  hoped  to  pull  her 
through  with  the  aid  of  high  feeding.  He  alluded  cursorily 
to  a  young  girl  living  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  whom  he 
had  been  called  in  to  see  at  the  eleventh  hour,  and  had  lost, 
owing  to  the  lowering  of  his  patient  from  a  prescription  of 
a  vegetable  diet  by  a  certain  Dr.  Shrapnel. 

That  ever-explosive  name  precipitated  Beauchamp  to  the 
front  rank  of  the  defence. 

"  I  happen  to  be  staying  with  Dr.  Shrapnel,"  he  observed. 
*'  I  don't  eat  meat  there  because  he  doesn't,  and  I  am  certain 
I  take  no  harm  by  avoiding  it.  I  think  vegetarianism  a 
humaner  system,  and  hope  it  may  be  wise.  I  should  like  to 
see  the  poor  practising  it,  for  their  own  sakes  ;  and  I  have 
half  an  opinion  that  it  would  be  good  for  the  rich — ^if  we 
are  to  condemn  gluttony." 

"  Ah  ?  Captain  Beauchamp  !"  the  doctor  bowed  to  him. 
"  But  my  case  was  one  of  poor  blood  requiring  to  be 
strengthened.  The  girl  was  allowed  to  sink  so  low  that 
stimulants  were  ineffective  when  I  stepped  in.  There's  the 
point.  It's  all  very  well  while  j^ou  are  in  health.  You  may 
do  without  meat  till  your  system  demands  the  stimulant,  or 
else—  as  with  this  poor  girl !  And,  indeed.  Captain  Beau- 
champ, if  I  may  venture  the  remark — I  had  the  pleasure 


TEIAL  AWAITING  THE  EAEL.  437 

of  seeing  yoa  during  the  last  Election  in  oiir  town — and  if 
I  may  be  so  bold,  I  should  renture  to  hint  that  the  avoidance 
of  animal  food — to  judge  by  appearances — has  not  been  quite 
wholesome  for  you." 

Ejes  were  turned  on  Beauchamp. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

OF  THE  TEIAL  AWAIIIXG  THE  EARL  OF  ROMFRET. 

Cecilia  softly  dropped  her  father's  arm,  and  went  into  the 
house.  The  exceeding  pallor  of  Beauchamp 's  face  haunted 
her  in  her  room.  She  heard  the  controversy  proceeding 
below,  and  an  exclamation  of  Blackburn  Tuckham's  :  "  Im- 
morality of  meat-eating  ?  What  nonsense  are  they  up  to 
now  ?" 

Beauchamp  was  inaudible,  save  in  a  word  or'  two.  As 
usual,  he  was  the  solitary  minority. 

But  how  mournfully  changed  he  was !  She  had  not 
noticed  it,  agitated  by  her  own  emotions  as  she  had  been, 
and  at  one  time  three  parts  frozen.  He  was  the  ghost  of 
the  Nevil  Beauchamp  who  had  sprung  on  the  deck  of  the 
Esperanza  out  of  Lieutenant  Wilmore's  boat,  that  sunny 
breezy  day  which  was  the  bright  first  chapter  of  her  new  life 
— of  her  late  life,  as  it  seemed  to  her  now,  f oi*  she  was  dead  to 
it,  and  another  creature,  the  coldest  of  the  women  of  earth. 
She  felt  sensibly  cold,  coveted  warmth,  flung  a  shawl  on  her 
shoulders,  and  sat  in  a  corner  of  her  room,  hidden  and 
shivering  beside  the  open  window,  till  long  after  the  gentle- 
men had  ceased  to  speak. 

How  much  he  must  have  suifered  of  late  !  The  room  she 
had  looked  to  as  a  refuge  from  Xevil  was  now  her  strong- 
hold against  the  man  whom  she  had  incredibly  accepted. 
She  remained  there,  the  victim  of  a  heai-t  malady,  under  the 
term  of  headache.  Feeling  entrapped,  she  considered  that 
she  must  have  been  encircled  and  betrayed.  She  looked 
back  on  herself  as  a  giddy  figure  falling  into  a  pit :  and  in 
the  pit  she  lay. 

And  how  vile  to  have  suspected    of  unfaithfulness    and 


438  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEEE. 

sordidness  the  generons  and  steadfast  man  of  earth!  He 
never  abandoned  a  common  friendship.  His  love  of  his 
country  was  love  still,  whatever  the  form  it  had  taken.  His 
childlike  reliance  on  eft'oi-t  and  outspeaking,  for  which  men 
laughed  at  him,  was  beautiful. 

Where  am  I  ?  she  cried  amid  her  melting  images  of  him, 
all  dominated  by  his  wan  features.  She  was  bound  fast, 
imprisoned  and  a  slave.  Even  Mr.  Austin  had  conspired 
against  him:  for  only  she  read  Nevil  justly.  His  defence 
of  Dr.  Shrapnel  filled  her  with  an  envy  that  no  longer 
maligned  the  object  of  it,  but  was  humble,  and  like  the 
desire  of  the  sick  to  creep  into  sunshine. 

The  only  worthy  thing  she  could  think  of  doing  was  (it 
must  be  mentioned  tor  a  revelation  of  her  fallen  state,  and, 
moreover,  she  was  not  lusty  of  health  at  the  moment)  to 
abjure  meat.  The  body  loathed  it,  and  consequently  the 
mind  of  the  invalided  lady  shrank  away  in  horror  of  the 
bleeding  joints,  and  the  increasingly  fierce  scramble  of 
Christian  souls  for  the  dismembered  animals :  she  saw  the 
innocent  pasturing  beasts,  she  saw  the  act  of  slaughter.  She 
had  actually  sweeping  before  lier  sight  a  spectacle  of  the 
ludicrous-terrific,  in  the  shape  of  an  entire  community  pur- 
suing countless  herds  of  poor  scampering  animal  life  for 
blood:  she,  meanwhile,  with  Nevil  and  Dr.  Shrapnel,  stood 
apart  contemning.  For  whoso  would  not  partake  of  flesh  in 
this  kingdom  of  roast  beef  must  be  of  the  sparse  number  of 
Nevil's  execrated  minority  in  politics. 

The  example  will  show  that  she  touched  the  borders  of 
delirium.  Physically,  the  doctor  pronounces  her  bilious. 
She  was  in  eai'nest  so  far  as  to  send  down  to  the  library  for 
medical  books  and  books  upon  diet.  These,  however,  did 
not  plead  for  the  beasts.  They  treated  the  subject  without 
question  of  man's  taking  that  which  he  has  conquered. 
Poets  and  philosophers  did  the  same.  Again  she  beheld 
Nevil  BeauchamjD  solitary  in  the  adverse  rank  to  the  world ; 
— to  his  countrymen  especially.  But  that  it  was  no  material 
cause  which  had  wasted^  his  cheeks  and  lined  his  forehead, 
she  was  sure  :  and  to  starve  with  him,  to  e^ibark  with  him 
in  his  little  boat  on  the  seas  he  whipped  to  frenzy,  would 
have  been  a  dream  of  bliss,  had  she  dared  to  contemplate 
herself  in  a  dream  as  his  companion. 

It  was  not  to  be  thought  of. 


TRIAL  AWAITING  THE  EARL.  439 

"No :  bnt  ttis  was,  and  to  be  thought  of  seriously:  Cecilia 
had  said  to  herself  for  consolation  that  Beauchamp  was  no 
spiritual  guide  ;  he  had  her  heart  within  her  to  plead  for 
him,  and  the  reflection  came  to  her,  like  a  babble  up  from 
the  heart,  that  most  of  our  spiritual  guides  neglect  the  root 
to  trim  the  flower  :  and  thence,  turning  sharply  on  herself, 
she  obtained  a  sadden  view  of  her  allurement  and  her  sin  in 
worshipping  herself,  and  recognized  that  the  aim  at  an  ideal 
life  closely  approaches,  or  easily  inclines,  to  self-worship  ;  to 
which  the  lady  was  woman  and  artist  enough  to  have  had 
no  objection,  but  that  therein  visibly  she  discerned  the  re- 
tributive vain  longings,  in  the  guise  of  high  individual  supe- 
riority and  distinction,  that  had  thwarted  her.  with  Nevil 
Beauchamp,  never  permitting  her  to  love  single-mindedly 
or  whole-heartedly,  but  always  in  reclaiming  her  rights  and 
sighing  for  the  loss  of  her  ideal ;  adoring  her  own  image,  in 
fact,  when  she  pretended  to  cherish,  and  regret  that  she  could 
not  sufficiently  cherish,  the  finer  elements  of  nature.  What 
was  this  ideal  she  had  complained  of  losing  ?  It  was  a  broken 
mirror:  she  coald  think  of  it  in  no  other  form. 

Dr.  Shrapnel's  '  Ego-Ego  '  yelped  and  gave  chase  to  her 
through  the  pure  beatitudes  of  her  earlier  days  down  to  her 
pi-esent  regrets.  It  hunted  all  the  saints  in  the  calendar  till 
their  haloes  top-sided  on  their  heads  —  her  favourite  St. 
Francis  of  Assisi  excepted. 

The  doctor  was  called  up  from  Bevisham  next  day,  and 
pronounced  her  bilious.  He  was  humorous  over  Captain 
Beauchamp,  who  had  gone  to  the  parents  of  the  dead  girl, 
and  gathered  the  information  that  they  w^ere  a  consumptive 
family,  to  vindicate  Dr.  Shrapnel.  "  The  very  family  to 
I'equii-e  strong  nourishment,"  said  the  doctor. 

Cecilia  did  not  rest  in  her  sickroom  before,  hunting  through 
one  book  and  another,  she  had  found  arguments  on  the  con- 
ti'ary  side ;  a  w^aste  of  labour  that  heaped  oppression  on 
her  chest,  as  with  the  world's  weight.  Apparently  one  had 
only  to  be  in  Beauchamp's  track  to  experience  that.  She 
horrified  her  father  by  asking  questions  about  consumption. 
Homoeopathy,  hydropathy — the  revolutionaries  of  medicine 
attracted  her.  \ Blackburn  Tuckham,  a  model  for  an  elected 
lover  who  is  not  beloved,  promised  to  procure  all  sorts  of 
treatises  for  her :  no  man  could  have  been  so  deferential  to 
a  diseased  mind.    Beyond  calling  her  by  her  Christian  name, 


440  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

he  did  notlimg  to  distress  lier  with  the  broad  aspect  of  their 
new  relations  together.  He  and  Mr.  Austin  departed  from 
Mount  Laurels,  leaving  her  to  sink  into  an  agreeable  stupor, 
like  one  deposited  on  a  mudbank  after  buffeting  the  waves. 
She  learnt  that  her  father  had  seen  Captain  Baskelett,  and 
remembered,  marvelling,  how  her  personal  dread  of  an  inter- 
view, that  threatened  to  compromise  her  ideal  of  her  feminine 
and  peculiar  dignity,  had  assisted  to  precipitate  her  where 
she  now  lay  helpless,  almost  inanimate. 

She  was  unaware  of  the  passage  of  time  save  when  her 
father  spoke  of  a  marriage-day.  It  told  her  that  she  lived 
and  was  moving.  The  fear  of  death  is  not  stronger  in  us, 
nor  the  desire  to  put  it  off,  than  Cecilia's  shunning  of  such 
a  day.  The  naming  of  it  numbed  her  blood  like  a  snake- 
bite. Yet  she  openly  acknowledged  her  engagement;  and, 
happily  for  Tuckham,  his  visits,  both  in  London  and  at 
Mount  Laurels,  were  few  and  short,  and  he  inflicted  no  fore- 
taste of  her  coming  subjection  to  him  to  alarm  her. 

Under  her  air  of  calm  abstraction  she  watched  him  rigor- 
ously for  some  sign  of  his  ownership  that  should  tempt  her 
to  revolt  from  her  pledge,  or  at  least  dream  of  breaking 
loose  :  the  dream  would  have  sufficed.  He  was  never  intru- 
sive, never  pressing.  He  did  not  vex,  because  he  absolutely 
trusted  to  the  noble  loyalty  which  made  her  admit  to  herself 
that  she  belonged  irrevocably  to  him,  while  lier  thoughts 
were  upon  Beauchamp.  With  a  respectful  gravity  he  sub- 
mitted to  her  perusal  a  collection  of  treatises  on  diet,  classed 
pro  and  con.,  and  paged  and  pencil-marked  to  simplify  her 
study  of  the  question.  They  sketched  in  company ;  she 
played  music  to  him,  he  read  poetry  to  her,  and  read  it  well. 
He  seemed  to  feel  the  beauty  of  it  sensitively,  as  she  did 
critically.  In  other  days  the  positions  had  been  reversed. 
He  invariably  talked  of  Beauchamp  with  kindness,  deploring 
only  that  he  should  be  squandering  his  money  on  workmen's 
halls  and  other  hazy  projects  down  in  Bevisham. 

"  Lydiard  tells  me  he  has  a  very  sound  idea  of  the  value 
of  money,  and  has  actually  made  money  by  cattle  breeding  ; 
but  he  has  flung  ten  thousand  pounds  on  a  single  building 
outside  the  town,  and  he'll  have  to  endow  it  to  support  it — 
a  Club  to  educate  Radicals.  The  fact  is,  he  w^ants  to  jam 
the  business  of  two  or  three  centuries  into  a  life-time.  These 
men  of  their  so-called  progress  are  like  the  majority  of  re 


TRIAL  AWAITING  THE  EARL.  441 

ligiOTis  minds  :  they  can't  believe  without  seeing  and  touch- 
ing. That  is  to  say,  they  don't  believe  in  the  abstract  at  all, 
but  they  go  to  work  blindly  by  agitating,  and  proselytizing, 
and  persecuting  to  get  together  a  mass  they  can  believe  in 
You  see  it  in  their  way  of  arguing;  it's  half  done  with  the 
fist.  Lydiard  tells  me  he  left  him  last  in  a  horrible  despond- 
ency about  progress.  Ha  !  ha !  Beauchamp's  no  Radical. 
He  hasn't  forgiven  the  Countess  of  Romfrey  for  marrying 
above  her  rank.  He  may  be  a  bit  of  a  Republican:  but 
really  in  this  country  Republicans  are  fighting  with  the 
shadow  of  an  old  hat  and  a  cockhorse.  I  beg  to  state  that 
I  have  a  reverence  for  constituted  authority  :  I  speak  of 
what  those  fellows  are  contending  with." 

"  Right,"  said  Colonel  Halkett.  "  But  '  the  shadow  of  an 
old  hat  and  a  cock-horse  :'  what  does  that  mean  ?" 

"  That's  what  our  Republicans  are  hitting  at,  sir." 

"  Ah  !  so  ;  yes,"  quoth  the  colonel-  "  And  I  say  this  to 
Nevil  Beauchamp,  that  what  we've  grown  up  well  with, 
powerfully  Avith,  it's  base  ingratitude  and  dangerous  folly  to 
throw  over." 

He  blamed  Beauchamp  for  ingratitude  to  the  countess, 
who  had,  he  affirmed  of  his  own  knowledge,  married  Lord 
Romfrey  to  protect  Beauchamp's  interests. 

A  curious  comment  on  this  alleoation  was  furnished  by 
the  announcement  of  the  earl's  expectafions  of  a  son  and 
lieir.  The  earl  wrote  to  Colonel  Halkett  from  Romfrey 
Castle  inviting  him  to  come  and  spend  some  time  there. 

"  Now,  that's  brave  news  !"  the  colonel  exclaimed. 

He  proposed  a  cruise  round  by  the  Cornish  coast  to  the 
Severn,  and  so  to  Romfrey  Castle,  to  squeeze  the  old  lord's  hand 
and  congratulate  him  with  all  his  heart,  Cecilia  was  glad 
to  acquiesce,  for  an  expedition  of  any  description  was  a  lull 
in  the  storm  that  hummed  about  her  ears  in  the  peace  of 
home,  where  her  father  would  perpetually  speak  of  the  day 
to  be  fixed.  Sailing  the  sea  on  a  cruise  was  like  the  gazing 
at  wonderful  colours  of  a  Western  sky:  an  oblivion  of  earthly 
dates  and  obligations.  What  mattered  it  that  there  were 
gales  in  August  ?  She  loved  the  sea,  and  the  stinging  salt 
spray,  and  circling  gull  and  plunging  gannet,  the  sun  on 
the  waves,  and  the  torn  cloud.  The  revelling  libertine  open 
sea  wedded  her  to  Beauchamp  in  that  veiled  cold  spiritual 
manner  she  could  muse  on  as  a  circumstance  out  of  her  life. 


442  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

Fair  companies  of  racing  yachts  were  *left  behind.  Tho 
gale.s  of  August  mattered  frightfully  to  poor  Blackburn 
Tuckham,  who  was  to  be  dropped  at  a  town  in  South  Wales, 
and  descended  gi'eenish  to  his  cabin  as  soon  as  they  had 
crashed  on  the  first  wall-waves  of  the  chalk-race,  a  throw 
beyond  the  peaked  cliffs  edged  with  cormorants,  and  were 
really  tasting  sea.  Cecilia  reclined  on  deck,  wrapped  in 
shawl  and  waterproof.  As  the  Alpine  climber  claims  the 
upper  air,  she  had  the  wild  sea  to  herself  through  her  love 
of  it ;  quite  to  herself.  It  was  delicious  to  look  round  and 
ahead,  and  the  perturbation  was  just  enough  to  preserve  her 
from  thoughts  too  deep  inward  in  a  scene  where  the  ghost  of 
Nevil  was  abroad. 

The  hard  dry  gale  increased.  Her  father,  stretched 
beside  her,  drew  her  attention  to  a  small  cutter  under 
double-reefed  main- sail  and  small  jib  on  the  Esperanzas 
weather  bow — a  gallant  boat  carefully  handled.  She 
watched  it  with  some  anxiety,  but  the  Esjjeranza  was  bound 
for  a  Devon  bay,  and  bore  away  from  the  black  Dorsetshire 
headland,  leaving  the  little  cutter  to  run  into  haven  if  she 
pleased.  The  passing  her  was  no  event. — In  a  repre- 
sentation of  the  common  events  befalling  us  in  these  times, 
upon  an  appreciation  of  which  this  history  depends,  one 
turns  at  whiles  a  languishing  glance  toward  the  vast  poten- 
tial mood,  pluperfect  tense.  For  Nevil  Beauchamp  was  on 
board  the  cutter,  steering  her,  with  Dr.  Shrapnel  and 
Lydiard  in  the  well,  and  if  an  accident  had  happened  to 
cutter  or  schooner,  what  else  might  not  have  happened  ? 
Cecilia  gathered  it  from  Mrs.  Wai-dour-Devereux,  whom,  to 
her  sui'prise  and  pleasure,  she  found  at  Romfrey  Castle.  Her 
friend  Louise  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Lydiard,  containiiig 
a  litei'ary  amateur  seaman's  log  of  a  cruise  of  a  fifteen-ton 
cutter  in  a  gale,  and  a  pure  literary  sketch  of  Beauchamp 
standing  drenched  at  the  helm  from  five  in  the  morning  up 
to  nine  at  night,  munching  a  biscuit  for  nourishment.  The 
beautiful  widow  prepared  the  way  for  what  was  very  soon 
to  be  publicly  known  concerning  herself  by  reading  out  this 
passage  of  her  correspondent's  letter  in  the  breakfast  room. 

"  Yes,  the  fellow's  a  sailor!"  said  Lord  Romfrey. 

The  countess  rose  from  her  chair  and  walked  out. 

"  Now,  was  that  abuse  of  the  fellow  ?"  the  old  lord  asked 
Colonel  Halkett.     "  I  said  he  was  a  sailor,  I  said  nothing 


TRIAL  AWAITING  THE  EARL.  443 

else.  He  is  a  sailor,  and  he's  fit  for  nothing  else,  and  no 
ship  will  he  get  unless  he  bends  his  neck  :  never's  nearer  it." 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  and  went  after  his  wife. 

Cecilia  sat  with  the  countess,  in  the  afternoon,  at  a 
window  overlooking  the  swelling  woods  of  Homfrey.  She 
praised  the  loveliness  of  the  view. 

"  It  is  fire  to  me,"  said  Rosamund. 

Cecilia  looked  at  her,  startled.     Rosamund  said  no  more. 

She  was  an  excellent  hostess,  nevertheless,  unpretending 
and  simple  in  company ;  and  only  when  it  chanced  that 
Beauchamp's  name  was  mentioned  did  she  cast  that  quick 
supplicating  nervous  glance  at  the  earl,  with  a  shadow  of  au 
elevation  of  her  shoulders,  as  if  in  apprehension  of  mordant 
pain. 

We  will  make  no  mystery  about  it.  I  would  I  could. 
Those  happy  tales  of  mystery  are  as  much  my  envy  as  the 
popular  narratives  of  the  deeds  of  bread  and  cheese  people, 
for  they  both  create  a  tide-way  in  the  attentive  mind ;  the 
mysterious  pricking  our  credulous  flesh  to  creep,  the  familiar 
urging  our  obese  imagination  to  constitutional  exercise. 
And  oh,  the  refreshment  there  is  in  dealing  with  characters 
either  contemptibly  beneath  us  or  supernaturally  above ! 
My  way  is  like  a  Rhone  island  in  the  summer  drought, 
stony,  unattractive  and  difiicult  between  the  two  forceful 
streams  of  the  unreal  and  the  over-real,  which  delight  man- 
kind— honour  to  the  conjurors  !  My  people  conquer  nothing, 
win  none ;  they  are  actual,  yet  uncommon.  It  is  the  clock- 
work of  the  brain  that  they  are  directed  to  set  in  motion, 
and — poor  troop  of  actors  to  vacant  benches! — the  con- 
science residing  in  though tfulness  which  they  would  appeal 
to ;  and  if  you  are  there  impervious  to  them,  we  are  lost : 
back  I  go  to  my  wilderness,  where,  as  you  perceive,  I  have 
contracted  the  habit  of  listening  to  my  own  voice  more  than 
is  good  : — 

The  burden  of  a  child  in  her  bosom  had  come  upon  Rosa- 
mund with  the  visage  of  the  Angel  of  Death  fronting  her  in 
her  path.  She  believed  that  she  would  die  ;'^ut  like  much 
that  we  call  belief,  there  was  a  kernel  of  doubt  in  it,  which 
was  lively  when  her  frame  was  enlivened,  and  she  then 
thought  of  the  giving  birth  to  this  unloved  child,  which  was 
to  disinherit  the  man  she  loved,  in  whose  interest  solely  (so 


444 

she  could  presume  to  tHnk,  because  it  had  been  her  motive 
reason)  she  had  married  the  earl.  She  had  no  wish  to  be  a 
mother ;  but  that  prospect,  and  the  dread  attaching  to  it  at 
her  time  of  life,  she  could  have  submitted  to  for  Lord  Rom- 
frey's  sake.  It  struck  her  like  a  scoifer's  blow  that  she, 
the  one  woman  on  earth  loving  iN'evil,  should  have  become 
the  instrument  for  dispossessing  him.  The  revulsion  of  her 
feelings  enlightened  her  so  far  as  to  suggest,  without 
enabling  her  to  fathom  him,  that  instead  of  having  cleverly 
swayed  Lord  Romfrey,  she  had  been  his  dupe,  or  a  blind 
accomplice ;  and  though  she  was  too  humane  a  woman  to 
think  of  punishing  him,  she  had  so  much  to  forgive  ihit 
the  trifles  daily  and  at  any  instant  added  to  the  load,  flushed 
her  resentment,  like  fresh  lights  showing  new  features  and 
gigantic  outlines.  Nevil's  loss  of  Cecilia  she  had  anti- 
cipated; she  had  heard  of  it  when  she  was  lying  in  phy- 
sical  and  mental  apathy  at  Steynham.  Lord  Romfrey  liad 
repeated  to  her  the  nature  of  his  replies  to  the  searching 
parental  questions  of  Colonel  Halkett,  and  having  foreseen 
it  all,  and  what  was  more,  foretold  it,  she  was  not  aroused 
from  her  torpor.  Latterly,  with  the  return  of  her  natural 
strength,  she  had  shown  herself  incapable  of  hearing  her 
husband  speak  of  Nevil ;  nor  was  the  earl  tardy  in  taking 
the  hint  to  spare  the  mother  of  his  child  allusions  that 
vexed  her.  N'ow  and  then  they  occurred  perforce.  The 
presence  of  Cecilia  exasperated  Rosamund's  peculiar  sensi- 
tiveness. It  required  Louise  Wardour-Devei-eux's  apologies 
and  interpretations  to  account  for  what  appeared  to  Cecilia 
strangely  ill-conditioned,  if  not  insane,  in  Lad}^  Romfrey 's 
behaviour.  The  most  astonishing  thing  to  hear  was  that 
Lady  Romfrey  had  paid  Mrs.  Devereux  a  visit  at  her  Surrey 
house  unexpectedly  one  Sunday  in  the  London  season,  for 
the  purpose,  as  it  became  evident,  of  meeting  Mr.  Blackburn 
Tuckham  :  and  how  she  could  have  known  that  Mr.  Tuck- 
ham  would  be  there,  Mrs.  Devereifc:  could  not  tell,  for  it 
was,  Louise  assured  Cecilia,  purely  by  chance  that  he  and 
Mr.  Lydiard  were  present:  but  the  countess  obtained  an 
interview  with  him  alone,  and  Mr.  Tuckham  came  from  it 
declaring  it  to  have  been  more  terrible  than  any  he  had 
ever  been  called  upon  to  endure.  The  object  of  the  countess 
was  to  persuade  him  to  renounce  his  bride. 

Louise  replied  to  the  natural  inquiry — "Upon  what  plea?** 


TRIAL  AWAITING  THE  EAEL.  445 

witli  a  significant  evasiveness.  She  put  her  arms  round 
Cecilia's  neck  :  "  I  trust  you  are  not  unhappy.  You  will  get 
no  release  from  him." 

"  I  am  not  unhappy,"  said  Cecilia,  musically  clear  to  con- 
vince her  friend. 

She  was  indeed  glad  to  feel  the  stout  chains  of  her  anchor 
restraining  her  when  Lady  Romfrey  talked  of  I^evil ;  they 
were  like  the  safety  of  marriage  without  the  dreaded  cere- 
mony, and  with  solitude  to  let  her  weep.  Bound  thus  to  a 
weaker  man  than  Blackburn  Tuckham,  though  he  had  been 
more  warmly  esteemed,  her  fancy  would  have  drifted  away 
over  the  deeps,  perhaps  her  cherished  loyalty  would  have 
drowned  in  her  tears — for  Lady  Romfrey  tasked  it  very 
severely :  but  he  from  whom  she  could  hope  for  no  release, 
gave  her  some  of  the  firmness  which  her  nature  craved  in 
this  trial. 

From  saying  quietly  to  her :  "  I  thought  once  you  loved 
him,"  when  alludiiig  to  Xevil,  Lady  Romfrey  passed  to 
mournful  exclamations,  and  by  degrees  on  to  direct  en- 
treaties. She  related  the  whole  story  of  Renee  in  England, 
and  appeared  distressed  with  a  desperate  wonderment  at 
Cecilia's  mildness  after  hearing  it.  Her  hearer  would  have 
imagined  that  she  had  no  moral  sense,  if  it  had  not  been  so 
perceptible  that  the  poor  lady's  mind  was  distempered  on 
the  one  subject  of  I^evil  Beauchamp.  Cecilia's  high  con- 
ception of  duty,  wherein  she  was  a  peerless  flower  of  our 
English  civilization,  was  incommunicable :  she  could  prac- 
tise, not  explain  it.  She  bowed  to  Lady  Romfrey 's  praises 
of  JSTevil,  suffered  her  hands  to  be  wrung,  her  heart  to  be 
touched,  all  but  an  avowal  of  her  love  of  him  to  be  wrested 
from  her,  and  not  the  less  did  she  retain  her  cold  resolution 
to  marry  to  please  her  father  and  fulfil  her  pledge.  In  truth 
it  was  too  late  to  speak  of  Renee  to  her  now.  It  did  not 
beseem  Cecilia  to  remember  that  she  had  ever  been  a  victim 
of  jealousy ;  and  while  confessing  to  many  errors,  because 
she  felt  them,  and  gained  a  necessary  strength  from  them — 
in  the  comfort  of  the  consciousness  of  pain,  for  example, 
which  she  sorely  needed,  that  the  pain  in  her  own  breast 
might  deaden  her  to  Nevil's, — jealousy,  the  meanest  of  the 
errors  of  a  lofty  soul,  yielded  no  extract  beyond  the  bare 
humiliation  proper  to  an  acknowledgement  that  it  had  existed: 
80  she  discarded  the  recollection  of  the  j^assion  which  had 


446  BEATTCHAMP'S  CAREEJE. 

wrought  the  m'schief.  Since  we  cannot  have  a  peerless 
flower  of  civilization  without  artificial  aid,  it  maj  he  under- 
stood how  it  was  that  Cecilia  could  extinguish  some  lights 
in  her  mind  and  kindle  others,  and  wherefore  what  it  was 
not  natural  for  her  to  do,  she  did.  She  had,  briefly,  a  certain 
control  of  herself. 

Our  common  readings  in  the  fictitious  romances  which 
mark  out  a  plot  and  measure  their  characters  to  fit  into  it, 
had  made  Rosamund  hopeful  of  the  effect  of  that  story  of 
Renee.  A  wooden  3"oung  woman,  or  a  galvanized  (sweet  to 
the  writer,  either  of  them,  as  to  the  reader — so  moveable 
they  are !)  would  have  seen  her  business  at  this  point,  and 
have  glided  melting  to  reconciliation  and  the  chamber  whei-e 
romantic  fiction  ends  joyously.  Rosamund  had  counted 
on  it. 

She  looked  intently  at  Cecilia.  "  He  is  ruined,  wa=?tel,  ill 
anloved ;  he  has  lost  you — I  am  the  cause !"  she  cried  in  a 
convulsion  of  grief. 

"  Dear  Lady  Romfrey !"  Cecilia  would  have  consoled  her. 
"  There  is  nothing  to  lead  us  to  suppose  that  Nevil  is  un- 
well, and  you  are  not  to  blame  for  anything :  how  can  you 
be  ?" 

"  I  spoke  falsely  of  Dr.  Shrapnel ;  I  am  the  cause.  It  lies 
on  me  !  it  pursues  me.  Let  me  give  to  the  poor  as  I  may, 
and  feel  for  the  poor,  as  I  do,  to  get  nearer  to  Nevil — I  can- 
not  have  peace !  His  heart  has  turned  from  me.  He  despises 
me.  If  I  had  spoken  to  Lord  Romfrey  at  Steynham,  as  he 
commanded  me,  you  and  he — Oh !  cowardice :  he  is  right, 
\ycowardice  is  the  chief  evil  in  the  M^orld.  He  is  ill ;  he  is 
desperatel}^  ill ;  he  will  die," 

"  Have  you  heard  he  is  very  ill,  Lady  Romfrey  ?" 

"No!  no!"  Rosamund  exclaimed;  "it  is  by  not  hearing 
that  I  know  it !" 

With  the  assistance  of  Louise  Devereux,  Cecilia  g]*adually 
awakened  to  what  was  going  on  in  the  house.  There  bad 
been  a  correspondence  betvreen  Miss  Denham  and  the  coun- 
tess. Letters  from  Bevisham  had  suddenly  ceased.  Pre- 
sumably the  earl  had  stopped  them:  and  if  so  it  must  have 
^  been  for  a  tragic  reason. 

Cecilia  hinted  some  blame  of  Lord  Romfrey  to  her  father. 

He  pressed  her  hand  and  said  :  "  You  don't  know  what 
that  man  suffers.    Romfrey  is  fond  of  Nevil  too,  but  he  must 


TRIAL  AWAITING  THE  EARL.  -        447 

guard  his  wife;  and  the  fact  is  Nevil  is  down  with  fever. 
It's  in  the  papers  now ;  he  may  be  able  to  conceal  it,  and  I 
hope  he  will.  There'll  be  a  crisis,  and  then  he  can  tell  her 
good  news — a  little  illness  and  all  right  now !  Of  course," 
the  colonel  continued  buoyantly,  "  Xevil  will  recover  ;  he's  a 
tough  wiry  young  fellow,  but  poor  Romfi-ey's  fears  are 
natural  enough  about  the  countess.  Her  mind  seems  to  be 
haunted  by  the  doctor  there — Shrapnel,  J  mean  ;  and  she's 
excitable  to  a  degree  that  threatens  the  worst — in  case  of 
any  accident  in  Bevisham." 

"  Is  it  not  a  kind  of  cowardice  to  conceal  it  ?"  Cecilia 
suggested. 

"  It  saves  her  from  fretting,"  said  the  colonel. 

"  But  she  is  fretting !  If  Lord  Romfrey  would  confide  in 
her  and  trust  to  her  courage,  papa,  it  would  be  best." 

Colonel  Halkett  thought  that  Lord  Romfrey  was  the 
judge. 

Cecilia  wished  to  leave  a  place  where  this  visible  torture 
of  a  human  soul  was  proceeding,  and  to  no  purpose.  She 
pointed  out  to  her  father,  by  a  variety  of  signs,  that  Lady 
Romfrey  either  knew  or  suspected  the  state  of  affairs  in 
Bevisham,  and  repeated  her  remarks  upon  Xevil's  illness. 
But  Colonel  Halkett  was  restrained  from  departing  by  the 
earl's  constant  request  to  him  to  stay.  Old  friendship  de- 
manded it  of  him.  He  began  to  share  his  daughter's  feelings 
at  the  sight  of  Lady  Romfrey.  She  was  outwardly  patient 
and  submissive  ;  by  nature  she  was  a  strong  healthy  woman  , 
and  she  attended  to  all  her  husband's  presci'iptions  for  the 
regulating  of  her  habits,  walked  with  him,  lay  down  for  the 
afternoon's  rest,  appeared  amused  when  he  laboured  to  that 
effect,  and  did  her  utmost  to  subdue  the  worm  devouring  her 
heart :  but  the  hours  of  the  delivery  of  the  letter-post  w^ere 
fatal  to  her.  Her  woeful :  "  ISTo  letter  for  me  !"  was  piteous. 
When  that  was  heard  no  longer,  her  silence  and  famished 
gaze  chilled  Cecilia.  At  night  Rosamund  eyed  her  husband 
expressionlessly,  with  her  head  leaning  back  in  her  chair,  to 
the  sorrow  of  the  ladies  beholding  her.  Ultimately  the  con- 
tagion of  her  settled  misery  took  hold  of  Cecilia.  Colonel 
Halkett  was  induced  by  his  daughter  and  Mrs.  Devereux  to 
endeavour  to  combat  a  system  that  threatened  consequences 
worse  than  those  it  was  planned  to  avert.  He  by  this  time 
was  aware  of  the  serious  character  of  the  malady  which  had 


448 

prostrated  !N'evil.  Lord  Romfrej  had  directed  his  own 
medical  man  to  go  down  to  Bevisham,  and  Dr.  Gannet's 
report  of  Xevil  was  gi^are.  The  colonel  made  light  of  it  to 
his  daughter,  after  the  fashion  he  condemned  in  Lord  Rom- 
frey,  to  whom  however  he  spoke  earnestly  of  the  necessity 
for  partially  taking  his  wife  into  his  confidence  :  to  the  extent 
of  letting  her  know  that  a  slight  fever  was  running  its  course 
with  Nevil. 

"  That  will  be  no  slight  fever  in  my  wife's  blood,"  said  the 
earl.  "  I  stnnd  to  weather  the  cape  or  run  to  wreck,  and  it 
Avon't  do  to  be  taking  in  reefs  on  a  lee-shore.  You  don't  see 
w^hat  frets  her,  colonel.  For  years  she  has  been  bout  on 
Nevil's  marringe.  It's  off:  but  if  you  catch  Cecilia  by  the 
hand  and  bring  her  to  us — I  swear  she  loves  the  fellow  ! — 
that's  the  medicine  for  my  wife.  Say  :  will  you  do  it  r*  Tell 
Lady  Romfrey  it  shall  be  done.  We  shall  stand  upright 
again  !" 

"  I'm  afraid  that's  impossible,  Rcnnfrey,"  said  the  colonel. 

"  Play  at  it,  then!  Let  her  think  it.  You're  helping  me 
treat  an  invalid.  Colonel  !  my  old  friend  !  You  save  my 
house  and  name  if  you  do  that.  It's  a  hand  round  a  candle 
in  a  burst  of  wind.  There's  IS^evil  dragged  by  a  woman  into 
one  of  their  reeking  hovels — so  that  Miss  Denham  at  Shrap- 
nel's writes  to  Lady  Romfrey — because  the  woman's  drunken 
husband  voted  for  him  at  the  Election,  and  was  kicked  out  of 
employment,  and  fell  upon  the  gin-bottie,  and  the  brats  of 
the  den  died  starving,  and  the  inan  sickened  of  a  fever  ;  and 
N^evil  goes  in  and  sits  with  him !  Ont  of  that  tangle  of  folly 
is  my  house  to  be  struck  down  ?  It  looks  as  if  the  fellow 
with  his  infernal  '  humanity,'  were  the  bad  genius  of  an  old 
nurse's  tale.  He's  a  good  fellow,  colonel,  he  means  well. 
This  fever  will  cure  him,  they  say  it  sobers  like  blood- 
letting. He's  a  gallant  fellow  ;  you  know  that.  He  fought 
to  the  skeleton  in  our  last  big  war.  On  my  soul,  I  believe 
he's  good  for  a  husband.  Fren"hwoman  or  not,  that  affair's 
over.  He  shall  have  Steynham  and  Holdesbury.  Can  I 
say  more  ?  Now,  colonel,  you  go  in  to  the  countess.  Grasp 
my  hand.  Give  me  that  help,  and  God  bless  you  !  You 
light  up  my  old  days.  She's  a  noble  woman:  I  would  not 
change  her  against  the  best  in  the  land.  She  has  this  craze 
about  Xevil.  I  suppose  she'll  never  get  over  it.  But  thei^ 
it  is :  and  we  must  feed  her  with  the  spoon." 


TRIAL  AWAITING  THE  EARL.  449 

Colonel  Halkett  argued  stiitteringlj  with  the  powerful 
man :  "  It's  the  truth  she  ought  to  hear,  E,omf rey  ;  indeed 
it  is,  if  you'll  believe  me.  It's  his  life  she  is  fearing  for. 
She  knows  half." 

"  She  knows  positively  nothing,  colonel.  Miss  Denham's 
first  letter  spoke  of  the  fellow's  having  headaches,  and 
staggering.  He  was  out  on  a  cruise,  and  saw  your  schooner 
pass,  and  put  into  some  port,  and  began  falling  right  and 
left,  and  they  got  him  back  to  Shrapnel's  :  and  here  it  is — 
that  if  you  go  to  him  you'll  save  him,  and  if  you  go  to  my 
wife  you'll  save  her  :  and  there  you  have  it :  and  I  ask  my 
old  friend,  I  beg  him  to  go  to  them  both." 

"  But  you  can't  surely  expect  me  to  force  my  daughter's 
inclinations,  m}^  dear  Romfrey  ?" 

"  Cecilia  loves  the  fellow  !" 

*'  She  is  engaged  to  Mr.  Tuckham." 

"I'll  see  the  man  Tuckham." 

*'  Really,  my  dear  lord  !" 

"  Play  at  it,  Halkett,  play  at  it !  Tide  us  over  this  ! 
Talk  to  her :  hint  it  and  nod  it.  We  have  to  round  ISTovem- 
ber.  I  could  strangle  the  world  till  that  month's  past. 
You'll  own,"  he  added  mildly  after  his  thunder,  "  I'm  not 
much  of  the  despot  ISTevil  calls  me.  She  has  not  a  wish  I 
don't  supply.  I"m  at  her  beck,  and  everything  that's  mine. 
She's  a  brave  good  woman.  I  don't  complain.  I  run  my 
chance.  But  if  we  k  se  the  child — good  night !  Boy  or  girl ! 
—boy  !" 

Lord  Romfrey  flung  an  arm  up.  The  child  of  his  old  age 
lived  for  him  already :  he  gave  it  all  the  life  he  had.  This 
miracle,  this  young  son  springing  up  on  an  earth  decaying 
and  dark,  absorbed  him.  This  reviver  of  his  ancient  line 
must  not  be  lost.  Perish  every  consideration  to  avert  it ! 
He  was  ready  to  fear,  love,  or  hate  terribly,  according  to  the 
pro.spects  of  his  child. 

Colonel  Halkett  was  obliged  to  enter  into  a  consultation, 
of  a  shadowy  sort,  with  his  daughter,  whose  only  advice  was 
that  they  should  leave  the  castle.  The  penetrable  gloom 
there,  and  the  growing  apprehension  concerning  the  countess 
and  ISTevil,  tore  her  to  pieces.  Even  if  she  could  have  con- 
spired with  the  earl  to  hoodwink  his  wife,  her  stro^ig  sense 
told  her  it  would  be  fruitless,  besides  base.  Father  and 
daughter  had  to  make  the  stand  against  Lord  Romfrey.     Ha 

2g 


450  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

saw  their  departure  from  the  castle  gates,  and  kippnd  his 
hand  to  Cecilia,  courteously,  without  a  smile. 

"He  may  well  praise  the  countess,  papa,"  said  Cecilia, 
while  they  were  looking  back  at  the  castle  and  the  moveless 
flag  that  hung  in  folds  by  the  mast  above  it.  "  She  has 
given  me  her  promise  to  avoid  questioning  him  and  to  accept 
his  view  of  her  duty.  She  said  to  me  that  if  IS'evil  should 
die  she  .  .   .   ." 

Cecilia  herself  broke  down,  and  gave  way  to  sobs  in  her 
father's  arms. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

A  FABRIC  OF  BARONIAL  DESPOTISM  CRUMBLES, 

The  earl's  precautions  did  duty  night  and  day  in  all  the 
avenues  leading  to  the  castle  and  his  wife's  apartments ; 
and  he  could  believe  that  he  had  undertaken  as  good  a 
defence  as  the  mountain  guarding  the  fertile  vale  from 
storms  :  but  him  the  elements  pelted  heavily.  Letters  from 
acquaintances  of  Nevil,  from  old  shipmates  and  from  queer 
political  admirers  and  opponents,  hailed  on  him  ;  things  not 
to  be  frigidly  read  were  related  of  rhe  fellow. 

Lord  Romfrey's  faith  in  the  ])Ower  of  constitution  to  beat 
disease  battled  sturdily  with  the  daily  reports  of  his  pliy- 
sician  and  friends,  whom  he  had  directed  to  visit  the  cottage 
on  the  common  outside  Bevisham,  and  with  j\liss  Denlia-n's 
intercepted  letters  to  the  countess.  Still  he  had  to  calcu- 
late on  the  various  injuries  ISTevil  had  done  to  his  constitu- 
tion, which  had  made  of  him  another  sort  of  man  for  a 
struggle  of  life  and  death  than  when  he  stood  like  a  riddled 
flag  through  the  war.  That  latest  freak  of  the  fellow's,  the 
abandonment  of  our  natural  and  wholesome  sustenance  in 
animal  food,  was  to  be  taken  in  the  reckoning.  Dr.  Gannet 
did  not  allude  to  it ;  the  Bevisham  doctor  did ;  and  the  earl 
meditated  with  a  fury  of  wrath  on  the  dismal  chance  that 
such  a  folly  as  this  of  one  old  vegetable  idiot  influencing  a 
younger  noodle,  might  strike  his  House  to  the  dust. 

His  watch  over  his  wife  had  grown  mechanical :  he  failed 


BARONIAL  DESPOTISM  CRUMBLES.  451 

to  observe  tliat  her  voice  was  missint:'.  She  rarelj  spoke. 
He  lost  the  art  of  observing  himself  :  the  wrinkling  up  and 
dropping  of  his  brows  became  his  habitual  langnage.  So 
long  as  he  had  not  to  meet  inquiries  or  face  tears,  he  enjoyed 
the  sense  of  security.  He  never  quitted  his  wife  save  to 
walk  to  the  Southern  park  lodge,  where  letters  and  telegrams 
were  piled  awaiting  him ;  and  she  was  forbidden  to  take 
the  air  on  the  castle  terrace  wirhout  his  being  beside  her, 
lest  a  whisper,  some  accident  of  the  kind  that  donkeys  who 
nod  over  their*  drowsy  nose-length-ahead  precautions  call 
fatality,  should  rouse  her  to  suspect,  and  in  a  turn  of  the 
hand  undo  his  labour :  for  the  race  was  getting  terrible  : 
Death  had  not  yet  stepped  out  of  that  evil  chamber  in  Dr. 
Shrapnel's  cottage  to  aim  his  javelin  at  the  bosom  contain- 
ing the  prized  young  life  to  come,  but,  like  the  smoke  of 
waxing  tire,  he  shadowed  foi-th  his  presence  in  wreaths 
blacker  and  thicker  day  by  day :  and  Everard  Romfrey 
knew  that  the  hideous  beast  of  darkness  had  only  to  spring 
up  and  pass  his  guard  to  deal  a  blow'  to  his  House  the  direr 
from  all  he  supposed  himself  to  have  gained  by  masking  it 
hitherto.  The  young  life  he  looked  to  for  renewal  swallowed 
him  :  he  partly  lost  human  feeling  for  his  wife  in  the  tre- 
mendous watch  and  strain  to  hurry  her  as  a  vessel  round 
the  dangerous  headland.  He  was  oblivious  that  his  eye- 
brows talked,  that  his  head  was  bent  low,  that  his  mouth 
was  shut,'Tind  that  where  a  doubt  has  been  sown,  silence 
and  such  signs  are  like  revelations  in  black  night  to  the 
spirit  of  a  woman  who  loves. 

One  morning  after  breakfast  Rosamund  hung  on  his  arm, 
eyeing  him  neither  questioningly  nor  invitingly,  but  long. 
He  kissed  her  forehead.  She  clung  to  him  and  closed  her 
eyes,  showing  him  a  face  of  slumber,  like  a  mask  of  the 
dead. 

Mrs.  Devereux  was  presont.  Cecilia  had  entreated  her  to 
stay  with  Lady  Romfrey.  She  stole  away,  for  the  time  had 
come  which  any  close  observer  of  the  countess  must  have 
expected. 

The  pari  lifted  his  wife,  and  carried  her  to  her  sitting- 
room.  "'  A  sunless  weltering  September  day  whipped  the 
window-panes  and  brought  the  roar  of  the  beaten  woods  to 
her  ears.  He  was  booted  and  gaitered  for  his  customary 
walk  to  the  park  lodge,  and  as  he  bout  a  knee  beside  her, 
she  murmured  :  "  Don't  wait ;  return  soon." 

2g2 


452  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

He  placed  a  cord  attached  to  the  bellrope  within  her  reach. 
This  utter  love  of  Nevil  Beauchanip  was  beyond  his  com- 
prehension, but  there  it  was,  and  he  had  to  submit  to  it  and 
manoeuvre.  His  letters  and  telegrams  told  the  daily  talc. 
"  He's  better,"  said  the  earl,  preparing  himself  to  answer 
what  his  wife's  look  had  warned  him  would  come. 

She  was  an  image  of  peace,  in  the  same  posture  on  the 
couch  where  he  had  left  her,  when  he  returned.  She  did 
not  open  her  eyes,  but  felt  about  for  his  hun  1,  and  touching 
it,  she  seemed  to  weigh  the  fingers. 

At  last  she  said:  "  The  fever  should  be  at  its  hei;';ht." 

"  Why,  my  dear  brave  girl,  what  ails  you  ?"'  said  he. 

*'  Ignorance." 

She  raised  her  eyelids.  His  head  was  bent  down  over  her, 
like  a  raven's  watching,  a  picture  of  gravest  vigilance. 

Her  bosom  rose  and  sank.  "  What  has  Miss  Denliam 
written  to-day  ?" 

"  To-day  ?"  he  asked  her  gently. 

"  I  shall  bear  it,"  she  answered.  "  You  were  my  master 
before  vou  were  my  husband.  I  bear  anything  you  think  is 
good  for  my  government.  Only,  my  ignorance  is  fever ;  I 
share  JN^evil's." 

"  Have  you  been  to  my  desk  at  all  ?" 

"  No.  I  read  your  eyes  and  your  hands  :  I  have  been 
living  on  them.  To-day  I  find  that  I  have  not  gained  by  it, 
as  I  hoped  I  should.  Ignorance  kills  me.  I  really  have 
courage  to  bear  to  hear — just  at  this  moment  I  have." 

*'  There's  no  bad  news,  my  love,"  said  the  earl. 

*'  High  fever,  is  it  ?" 

"  The  usual  fever.  Gannet's  with  him.  I  sent  for  Gannet 
to  go  there,  to  satisfy  you." 

"  Nevil  is  not  dead  ?" 

"  Lord  !  ma'am,  my  dear  soul !" 

*'  He  is  alive  ?" 

*'  Quite  :  certainly  alive ;  as  much  alive  as  I  am ;  only 
going  a  little  faster,  as  fellows  do  in  the  jumps  of  a  fever. 
The  best  doctor  in  England  is  by  his  bed.  He's  doing  fairly. 
You  should  have  let  me  know  you  were  fretting,  my  Rosa- 
mund." 

"  I  did  not  wish  to  tempt  you  to  lie,  my  dear  lord." 

"  Well,  there  are  times  when  a  woman  ...  as  you  are : 
but  you're  a   brave  woman,  a  strong  heart,   and  my  wife 


BARONIAL  DESPOTISM  CRUMBLES.  453 

You  want  some  one  to  sit  with  yon,  don't  you  ?  Louise 
Devereux  is  a  pleasant  person,  but  you  want  a  man  to  amuse 
you.  I'd  have  sent  to  Stukely,  but  you  want  a  serious  man, 
I  fancy." 

So  mucli  bad  the  earl  been  thrown  out  of  his  plan  for  pro- 
tecting his  wife,  that  he  felt  helpless,  and  hinted  at  the  aids 
and  comforts  of  religion.  He  had  not  rejected  the  official 
"'^Church,  and  regarding  it  now  as  in  alliance  with  great 
Houses,  he  considered  that  its  ministers  might  also  be  useful 
to  the  troubled  women  of  noble  families.  He  offered,  if  she 
pleased,  to  call  in  the  rector  to  sit  with  her — the  bishop  of 
the  diocese,  if  she  liked. 

•'  But  just  as  you  like,  my  love,"  he  added.  "You  know 
you  have  to  avoid  fretting.  I've  heard  my  sisters  talk  of 
the  parson  doing  them  good  off  and  on  about  the  time  of 
their  being  brought  to  bed.  He  elevated  their  minds,  they 
said.  I'm  sure  I've  no  objection.  If  he  can  doctor  the 
minds  of  women  he's  got  a  profession  worth  some- 
thing." 

Rosamund  smothered  an  outcry.  "  You  mean  that  Nevil 
is  past  hope !" 

"  Not  if  he's  got  a  fair  half  of  our  blood  in  him.     And 

Richard  Beauchamp  gave  the  fellow  good  stock.     He  has 

)  about  the  best  blood  in  England.     That's  not  saying  much 

/  when  they've  taken  to  breed  as  they  build — stuff  to  keep 

the  plasterers  at  work  ;  devil  a  thought  of  posterity !" 

"  There  I  see  you  and  ISTevil  one,  my  dear  lord,"  said  Rosa- 
mund. "You  think  of  those  that  are  to  follow  us.  Talk  to 
me  of  him.  Do  not  say,  'the  fellow.'  Say  'Nevil.'  I^o, 
no  ;  call  him  '  the  fellow.'  He  was  alive  and  well  when  you 
used  to  say  it.  But  smile  kindly,  as  if  he  made  you  love 
him  down  in  your  heart,  in  spite  of  yon.  We  have  both 
known  that  love,  and  that  opposition  to  him  ;  not  liking  his 
ideas,  yet  liking  him  so  :  we  were  obliged  to  laugh — I  h;  ve 
seen  you  !  as  love  does  laugh  !  If  I  am  not  crying  over  li's 
gi-ave,  Everard  ?     Oh  !" 

The  earl  smoothed  her  forehead.  All  her  suspicions  were 
rekindled  "  Truth  !  truth  !  give  me  truth.  Let  me  know 
what  world  I  am  in  !" 

"  My  dear,  a  ship's  not  lost  because  she's  caught  in  a 
squall ;  nor  a  man  buffetting  the  waves  for  an  hour.  He's 
all  right :  he  keeps  up." 


454  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  He  is  delirious  ?  I  ask  yon — I  have  fancied  I  heard 
him." 

Lord  Romfrey  puffed  from  his  nostrils :  but  in  affecting 
to  blow  to  the  winds  her  foolish  woman's  wildness  of  fancy, 
his  mind  rested  on  Nevil,  and  he  said :  "  Poor  boy  !  It 
seems  he's  chattering  hundreds  to  the  minute." 

His  wife's  looks  alarmed  him  after  he  had  said  it,  and  he 
was  for  toning  it  and  modifying  it,  when  she  gasped  to  him 
to  help  her  to  her  feet ;  and  standing  up,  she  exclaimed  : 
"  0  heaven  !  now  I  hear  you ;  now  I  know  he  lives.  See 
how  much  better  it  is  for  me  to  know  the  real  truth.  It 
takes  me  to  his  bedside.  Ignorance  and  suspense  have  been 
poison.  I  have  been  washed  about  like  a  dead  body.  Let 
me  read  all  my  letters  now.  Nothing  will  harm  me  now. 
You  will  do  your  best  for  me,  my  husband,  will  you  not  ? " 
She  tore  at  her  dress  at  her  throat  for  coolness,  panting  and 
smiling.  "  For  me — us — yours — ours  !  Give  me  my  letters, 
lunch  with  me,  and  start  for  Bevisham.  Now  you  see  how 
good  it  is  for  me  to  hear  the  very  truth,  you  will  give  me 
your  own  report,  and  I  shall  absolutely  trust  in  it,  and  go 
down  with  it  if  it's  false  !  But  you  see  I  am  perfectly 
strong  for  the  truth.  It  must  be  you  or  I  to  go.  I  burn  to 
go ;  but  your  going  will  satisfy  me.  If  you  look  on  him,  I 
look,  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  nailed  down  in  a  coffin,  and 
have  got  fresh  air.  I  pledge  you  my  word,  sir,  my  honour, 
my  dear  husband,  that  I  will  think  first  of  my  duty.  I 
know  it  would  be  Nevil's  wish.  He  has  not  quite  forgiven 
me — he  thought  me  ambitious — ah  !  stop  :  he  said  that  the 
birth  of  our  child  would  give  him  greater  happiness  than  he 
had  known  for  years  :  he  begged  me  to  persuade  you  to  call 
a  boy  Nevil  Beauchamp,  and  a  girl  Renee.  He  has  never 
believed  in  his  OAvn  long  living." 

Rosamund  refreshed  her  lord's  heart  by  smiling  archly  as 
she  said :  "  The  boy  to  be  educated  to  take  the  side  of  the 
people,  of  course  !     The  girl  is  to  learn  a  profession." 

"  Ha !  bless  the  fellow !  "  Lord  Romfrey  interjected. 
"  Well,  I  might  go  there  for  an  hour.  Promise  me,  no  fret- 
ting! You  have  hollows  in  your  cheeks,  and  your  underlip 
hangs  :  I  don't  like  it.     I  haven't  seen  that  before." 

"  We  do  not  see  clearly  when  we  are  trying  to  deceive," 
said  Rosamund.     "  My  letters  !  my  letters  !  " 

Lord  Romfrey  went  to  fetch  them.     They  were  intact  in 


BARONIAL  DESPOTISM  CRUMBLES.  455 

his  desk.  His  wife,  then,  had  actually  been  reading  the 
facts  through  a  wall  !  For  he  was  convinced  of  Mrs. 
Devereux's  lidelity,  as  well  as  of  the  colonel's  and  Cecilia's. 
He  was  not  a  man  to  be  disobeyed  :  nor  was  his  wife  the 
woman  to  court  or  to  acquiesce  in  trifling  acts  of  disobe- 
dience to  him.  He  received  the  impression,  consequently, 
that  this  matter  of  the  visit  to  Xevil  was  one  in  which  the 
poor  loving  soul  might  be  allowed  to  guide  him,  singular  as 
the  intensity  of  her  love  of  Xevil  Beauchamp  was,  considering 
that  they  were  not  of  kindred  blood. 

He  endeavoured  to  tone  her  mind  for  the  sadder  items  in 
Miss  Denham's  letters. 

"  Oh  !"  said  Rosamund,  "what  if  I  shed  the  '  screaming 
eyedrops,'  as  you  call  them  ?  They  will  not  hui-t  me,  but 
i-elieve.  I  was  stire  I  should  some  day  envy  that  girl  ! 
Tf  he  dies  she  will  have  nursed  him  and  had  the  last  of 
him." 

"  He's  not  going  to  die  ! "  said  Everard  powerfully. 

"We  must  be  prepared.  These  letters  will  do  that  for 
me.  I  have  written  out  the  hours  of  your  trains.  Stanton 
will  attend  on  you.  I  have  directed  him  to  telegi-aph  to  the 
Dolphin  in  Bevisliam  for  rooms  for  the  night :  that  is  to- 
morrow night.  To-night  you  sleep  at  your  hotel  in  London, 
which  will  be  ready  to  receive  you,  and  is  more  comfortable 
than  the  empty  house.  Stanton  takes  wine,  madeira  and 
claret,  and  other  small  necessaries.  If  Nevil  should  be  very 
unwell,  you  will  not  leave  him  immediately.  I  shall  look  to 
the  supplies.  You  will  telegraph  to  me  twice  a  day,  and 
write  once.  We  lunch  at  half-past  twelve,  so  that  you  may 
hit  the  twenty-minutes-to-two  o'clock  train.  And  now  I  go 
to  see  that  the  packing  is  done." 

She  carried  off  her  letters  to  her  bedroom,  where  she  fell 
upon  the  bed,  shutting  her  eyelids  hard  before  she  could 
suffer  her  eyes  to  be  the  intermediaries  of  that  fever-chamber 
in  Bevisham  and  her  bursting  heart.  But  she  had  not 
positively  deceived  her  husband  in  the  re-assurance  she  had 
given  him  by  her  collectedness  and  by  the  precise  directions 
she  had  issued  for  his  comforts,  indicating  a  mind  so  much 
more  at  ease.  She  w^as  firmer  to  meet  the  peril  of  her 
beloved:  and  being  indeed,  when  thrown  on  her  internal 
resources,  one  among  the  brave  women  of  earth,  though  also 
one  who  required  a  lift  from  circumstances  to  take  her  stand 


456  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

calmly  fronting  a  menace  to  her  heart,  she  saw  the  evidence 
of  her  influence  with  Lord  Romfrey :  the  level  she  could 
feel  that  they  were  on  together  so  long  as  she  was  coura- 
geous, inspirited  her  sovereif^nly. 

He  departed  at  the  hour  settled  for  him.  Rosamund  sat 
at  her  boudoir  window,  watching  the  carriage  that  was  con- 
ducting him  to  the  railway  station.  Neither  of  them  had 
touched  on  the  necessity  of  his  presenting  himself  at  the 
door  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's  house.  That,  and  the  disgust  belong- 
ing to  it,  was  a  secondary  consideration  with  Lord  Romfrey, 
after  he  had  once  resolved  on  it  as  the  right  thing  to  do : 
and  his  wife  admired  and  respected  him  for  so  supreme  a 
loftiness.  And  fervently  she  prayed  that  it  might  not  be 
her  evil  fate  to  disappoint  his  hopes.  Xever  had  she 
experienced  so  strong  a  sense  of  devotedness  to  him  as  when 
she  saw  the  carriage  winding  pnst  the  middle  oak-wood  of 
the  park,  under  a  wet  sky  brightened  from  the  West,  and  on 
out  of  sight. 


CHAPTER  L. 

AT  THE  COTTAGE  ON  THE  COMMON. 


Rain  went  wich  Lord  Romfrey  in  a  pursuing  cloud  all  the 
way  to  Bevisham,  and  across  the  common  to  the  long  garden 
and  plain  little  green-shuttored,  neat  white  cottage  of  Dr. 
Shrapnel.  Carriages  were  driving  from  the  door;  idle 
men  with  hands  deep  in  their  pockets  hung  near  it,  som'e 
women  pointing  their  shoulders  under  wet  shawls,  and  boys. 
The  earl  was  on  foot.  With  no  sign  of  discomposure,  he 
stood  at  the  half -open  door  and  sent  in  his  card,  bearing  the 
rerjuest  for  permission  to  visit  his  nephew.  The  reply 
failing  to  come  to  him  immediately,  he  began  striding  to  and 
fro.  That  garden  gate  where  he  had  flourished  the  righteous 
whip  was  wide.  Footfarers  over  the  sodden  common  were 
attracted  to  the  gateway,  and  lingered  in  it,  looking  at  the 
long,  green-extended  windows,  apparently  listening,  before 
they  broke  away  to  exchange  undertoned  speech  here  and 
there.      Boys  had  pushed  up    through   the    garden    to  tha 


AT  THE  COTTAGE  ON  THE  COMMON.  457 

kitchen  area.  From  time  to  time  a  woman  in  a  dripping 
bonnet  whimpered  aloud. 

An  air  of  a  country  churchyard  on  a  Sunday  morning 
when  the  curate  has  commenced  the  service  prevailed.  The 
boys  were  subdued  by  the  moisture,  as  they  are  when  they 
sit  in  the  church  aisle  or  organ-loft,  before  their  members 
have  been  much  cramped. 

The  whole  scene,  and  especially  the  behaviour  of  the 
boys,  betokened  to  Lord  Romfrey  that  an  event  had  come  to 
pass. 

In  a  chronicle  of  a  sickness  the  event  is  death. 

He  bethought  him  of  various  means  of  stopping  the  tele- 
graph and  smothering  the  tale,  if  matters  should  have 
touched  the  worst  here.  He  calculated  abstrusely  the  prac- 
ticable shortness  of  the  two  routes  from  Bevisham  to  Rom- 
frey,  by  post-horses  on  the  straightest  line  of  road,  or  by 
express  train  on  the  triangle  of  railway,  in  case  of  an  extreme 
need  requiring  him  to  hasten  back  to  his  wife  and  renew  his 
paternal-despot^'c  system  w^th  her.  She  had  but  persuaded 
him  of  the  policy  of  a  liberal  openness  and  confidence  for  the 
moment's  occasion :  she  could  not  turn  his  nature,  which  ran 
to  strokes  of  craft  and  blunt  decision  wlieuever  the  emer- 
gency smote  him  and  he  felt  himself  hailed  to  show  general- 
ship. 

While  thus  occupied  in  thoughtfulness  he  became  aware 
of  the  monotony  of  a  tuneless  chant,  as  if,  it  struck  him,  an 
insane  young  chorister  or  canon  were  galloping  straight  on 
end  hippomaniacally  through  the  Psalms.  There  was  a 
creak  at  intervals,  leading  him  to  think  it  a  machine  that 
might  have  run  away  with  the  winder's  arm. 

The  earl's  humour  proposed  the  notion  to  him  that  this 
perhaps  was  one  of  the  forms  of  Radical  lamentation,  ulu- 
lation,  possibly  practised  by  a  veteran  imjDietist  like  Dr. 
Shrapnel  for  the  loss  of  his  youngster,  his  political  cub — 
poor  lad  ! 

Deriding  any  such  paganry,  and  aught  that  could  be  set 
howling.  Lord  Romfrey  was  presently  moved  to  ask  of  the 
small  crowd  at  the  gate  what  that  sound  was. 

"  It's  the  poor  commander,  sir,"  said  a  wet-shawled 
woman,  shivering. 

"  He's  been  at  it  twenty  hours  already,  sir,"  said  one  of 
the  boys. 


45B  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  Twentj-foor  hour  lieVe  been  at  it,"  said  anotlier. 

A  short  dispute  grew  over  the  exact  number  of  hours. 
One  boy  declared  that  thirty  houi'S  had  been  reached. 
"  Father  heerd'n  yesterday  morning  as  he  was  aff  to's  wort 
in  the  town  afore  six :  that  brings  't  nigh  thirty :  and  he 
ha'n't  stopped  yet." 

The  earl  was  invited  to  step  inside  the  gate,  a  little  way 
up  to  the  house,  and  under  the  commander's  window,  that 
he  might  obtain  a  better  hearing. 

He  swung  round,  walked  away,  walked  back,  and  listened. 

If  it  was  indeed  a  voice,  the  voice,  he  would  have  said, 
was  travelling  high  in  air  along  the  sky. 

Testei-day  he  had  described  to  his  wife  Kevil's  chattering 
of  hundreds  to  the  minute.  He  had  not  realized  the  descrip- 
tion, which  had  been  only  his  manner  of  painting  delirium  : 
there  had  been  no  warrant  for  it.  He  heard  the  wild  scud- 
ding voice  imperfectly :  it  reminded  him  of  a  string  of 
winter  geese  changing  waters.  Shower  gusts,  and  the  wail 
and  hiss  of  the  rows  of  fir-trees  bordering  the  garden,  came 
between,  and  allowed  him  a  moment's  incredulity  as  to  its 
being  a  human  voice.  Such  a  cry  will  often  haunt  the 
moors  and  wolds  from  above  at  nightfall.  The  voice  hied 
on,  sank,  seemed  swallowed  ;  it  rose,  as  if  above  water,  in  a 
hush  of  wind  and  trees.  The  trees  bowed  their  heads  raging, 
the  voice  drowned ;  once  more  to  rise,  chattering  thrice 
rapidly,  in  a  high-iDitched  key,  thin,  shrill,  weird,  inter- 
minable, like  winds  through  a  crazy  chamber-door  at  m.id- 
night. 

The  voice  of  a  broomstick- witch  in  the  clouds  could  not 
be  thinner  and  stranger :  Lord  Romfrey  had  some  such 
thought. 

Dr.  Gannet  was  the  bearer  of  Miss  Denham's  excuses  to 
Lord  Romfrey  for  the  delay  in  begging  him  to  enter  the 
house:  in  the  confusion  of  the  household  his  lordship's  card 
had  been  laid  on  a  table  below,  and  she  was  in  the  sick- 
room. 

"  Is  my  nephew  a  dead  man  ?"  said  the  earl. 

The  doctor  weighed  his  reply.  "  He  lives.  Whether  he 
will,  after  the  exhaustion  of  this  prolonged  fit  of  raving,  I 
don't  dare  to  predict.  In  the  course  of  my  experience  I 
have  never  known  anything  like  it.  He  lives  :  there's  the 
miracle,  but  he  lives."' 


AT  THE  COTTAGE  ON  THE  COMMON,  459 

"  On  brandy  ?" 

"  That  would  soon  have  sped  him." 

*'  Ha.     You  have  everything  here  that  you  want  ?" 

**  Everything." 

"He's  in  your  hands,  Gannet." 

The  earl  was  conducted  to  a  sitting-room,  where  Dr.  Gan- 
net left  him  for  a  while. 

Mindful  that  he  was  under  the  roof  of  his  enemy,  he 
remained  standing,  observing  nothing. 

The  voice  overheard  was  off  at  a  prodigious  rate,  like  the 
far  sound  of  a  yell  ringing  on  and  on. 

The  earl  unconsciously  sought  a  refuge  from  it  by  turning 
the  leaves  of  a  "book  uY^on  the  table,  which  was  a  complete 
edition  of  Harry  Denham's  Poems,  with  a  preface  by  a  man 
named  Lydiard ;  and  really,  to  read  the  preface  one  would 
suppose  that  these  poets  were  the  princes  of  the  earth. 

Lord  Eomfrey  closed  the  volume.  It  was  exquisitely 
bound,  and  presented  to  ^liss  Denliam  by  the  Mr.  Lydiard. 
"  The  works  of  your  illustrious  father,"  was  written  on  the 
title-page.  These  writers  deal  queerly  with  their  words  of 
praise  of  one  another.  There  is  no  law  to  restrain  them. 
Perhaps  it  is  the  consolation  they  take  for  the  poor  devil's 
life  they  lead  ! 

A  lady  addressing  him  familiarly,  invited  him  to  go  up- 
stairs. 

He  thanked  her.  At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  he  turned  ;  he 
had  recognized  Cecilia  Halkett. 

Seeing  her  there  was  more  strange  to  him  than  being 
there  himself  ;  but  he  bowed  to  facts. 

"  What  do  you  think  r'  he  said. 

She  did  not  answer  intelligibly. 

He  walked  up. 

The  crazed  gabbling  tongue  had  entire  possession  of  the 
house,  and  rang  through  it  at  an  amazing  pitch  to  sustain 
for  a  single  minute. 

A  reflection  to  the  effect  that  dogs  die  more  decently  than 
we  men,  saddened  the  earl.  But,  then,  it  is  true,  we  shorten 
their  pangs  by  shooting  them. 

A  dismal  figure  loomed  above  him  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs. 

He  distinguished  in  it  the  vast  lean  length  he  had  once 
whipped  and  flung  to  earth. 


460 

Dr.  Shrapnel  was  planted  against  the  wall  outside  that 
raving  chamber,  at  the  salient  angle  of  a  common  prop  or 
buttress.  The  edge  of  a  shoulder  and  a  heel  were  the  sup- 
ports to  him  sideways  in  his  distorted  attitude.  His  wall 
arm  hung  dead  beside  his  pendant  frock-coat ;  the  hair  of 
his  head  had  gone  to  wildness,  like  a  field  of  barley  whipped 
by  tempest.  One  hand  pressed  his  eyeballs  :  his  unshaven 
jaw  dropped. 

Lord  Romfrey  passed  him  by. 

The  dumb  consent  of  all  present  affirmed  the  creature 
lying  on  the  bed  to  be  Nevil  Beauchamp. 

Face,  voice,  lank  arms,  chicken  neck  :  what  a  sepulchral 
sketch  of  him ! 

It  was  the  revelry  of  a  corpse. 

Shudders  of  alarm  for  his  wife  seized  Lord  Romfrey  at 
the  sight.  He  thought  the  poor  thing  on  the  bed  must  be 
going,  resolving  to  a  cry,  unwinding  itself  violently  in  its 
hurricane  of  speech,  that  was  not  speech  nor  exclamation, 
rather  the  tongue  let  loose  to  run  to  the  death.  It  seemed 
to  bo  out  in  mid- sea,  up  wave  and  down  wave. 

A  nurse  was  at  the  pillow  smoothing  it.  Miss  Denham 
stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

"  Is  tliat  pain  ?"  Lord  Romfrey  said  low  to  Dr.  Gannet. 

"  L^nconscious,"  was  the  reply. 

Miss  Denham  glided  about  the  room  and  disappeared. 

Her  business  was  to  remove  Dr.  Shrapnel,  that  he  might 
be  out  of  the  way  when  Lord  Romfrey  should  pass  him 
again :  but  Dr.  Shrapnel  heard  one  voice  only,  and  moaned : 
"  My  Beauchamp  !"     She  could  not  get  him  to  stir. 

Miss  Denham  saw  him  start  slightly  as  the  earl  stepped 
forth  and,  bowing  to  him,  said :  "  I  thank  you,  sir,  for  per- 
mitting me  to  visit  my  nephew." 

Dr.  Shrapnel  made  a  motion  of  the  hand,  to  signify  free- 
dom of  access  to  his  house.  He  would  have  spoken:  the 
effort  fetched  a  burst  of  terrible  chuckles.  He  covered  ,his 
face. 

Lord  Romfrey  descended.  The  silly  old  wretch  had  dis<- 
turbed  his  equanimity  as  a  composer  of  fiction  for  the  com- 
fort and  sustainment  of  his  wife :  and  no  sooner  had  he  the 
front  door  in  view  than  the  calculation  of  the  three  strides 
requisite  to  carry  him  out  of  the  house  plucked  at  his  leg-s, 
much  as  young  people  are  affected  by  a  dancing  measure; 


AT  THE  COTTAGE  ON  THE  COMMON.  461 

for  he  had,  without  deigning  to  think  of  matters  disagi'eeablo 
to  him  in  doing  so,  performed  the  duty  imposed  upon  him 
by  his  wife,  and  now  it  behoved  him  to  ward  off  the  coming- 
blow  from  that  double  life  at  Romfrey  Castle. 

He  was  arrested  in  his  hasty  passage  by  Cecilia  Halkett. 

She  handed  him  a  telegraphic  message  :  Eosamund  re- 
quested him  to  stay  two  days  in  Bevisham.  She  said  addi- 
tionally :  "  Perfectly  well.  Shall  fear  to  see  you  returning 
yet.  Have  sent  to  Tourdestelle.  All  his  friends.  ^N'i  espoir, 
ni  crainte,  mais  point  de  deceptions.  Lumiere,  Ce  sont  les 
tenebres  qui  tuent." 

Her  nimble  wits  had  spied  him  on  the  road  he  was  choos- 
ing, and  outrun  him. 

He  resigned  himself  to  wait  a  couple  of  days  in  Bevisham. 
Cecilia  begged  him  to  accept  a  bed  at  Mount  Laurels.  He 
declined,  and  asked  her  :  "  How  is  it  you  are  here  r" 

"  I  called  here,"  said  she,  compressing  her  eyelids  in 
anguish  at  a  wilder  cry  of  the  voice  ovei-liead,  and  forgetting 
to  state  why  she  had  called  at  the  house  and  what  services 
she  had  undertaken.  A  heap  of  letters  in  her  handwriting 
explained  the  nature  of  her  task. 

Lord  Romfrey  asked  her  where  the  colonel  was. 

"  He  drives  me  down  in  the  morning  and  back  at  night, 
but  they  will  give  me  a  bed  or  sofa  here  to-night — I  can't 
.  .  .   ."     Cecilia  stretched  her  hand  out,  blinded,  to  the  earl. 

He  squeezed  her  hand. 

"  These  letters  take  away  my  strength  :  crying  is  quite 
useless,  I  know  that,"  said  she,  glancing  at  a  pile  of  letters 
that  she  had  partly  replied  to.  "  Some  are  from  people  who 
can  hardly  write.  There  were  people  who  distrusted  him  ! 
Some  are  from  people  who  abused  him  and  maltreated  him. 
See  those  poor  creatures  out  in  the  rain  !" 

Lord  Romfrey  looked  through  the  Venetian  blinds  of  the 
parlour  window. 

"•It's  as  good  as  a  play  to  them,"  he  remarked. 

Cecilia  lit  a  candle  and  applied  a  stick  of  black  wax  to  the 
flame,  saying  :  "  Envelopes  have  fallen  short.  These  letters 
will  frighten  the  receivers.     I  cannot  help  it." 

"  I  will  bring  letter  paper  and  envelopes  in  the  afternoon," 
said  Lord  Romfrey.     "  Don't  use  black  wax,  my  dear." 

"  I  can  find  no  other :  I  do  not  like  to  trouble  Miss  Den- 
ham.     Letter  paper  has  to  be  sealed.     These  letters  must  go 


462  BEAUCHAMP  S  CAREER. 

by  the  afternoon  post :  I  do  not  like  to  rob  the  poor  anxious 
people  of  a  little  hope  while  he  lives.  Let  me  have  note 
paper  and  envelopes  quickly:  not  black-eilged." 

"  Plain ;  that's  right,"  said  Lord  Romfrey. 

Black  appeared  to  him  like  the  torch  of  death  flying  over 
the  country. 

"  There  may  he  hope,"  he  added. 

She  sighed  :  "  Oh  !  yes." 

"  Gannet  will  do  everything  that  man  can  do  to  save  him." 

"He  will,  I  am  sure." 

*'  You  don't  keep  watch  in  the  room,  my  dear,  do  you  ?" 

"  Miss  Denhani  allows  me  an  hour  there  in  the  day  :  it  is 
the  only  rest  she  takes.     She  gives  me  her  bedroom." 

"Ha:  well:  women!"  ejaculated  the  earl,  and  paused. 
"That  sounded  like  him!" 

"At  times,"  murmured  Cecilia.  "All  yesterday  I  all 
through  the  night !  and  to-day  !" 

"  He'll  be  missed." 

Any  sudden  light  of  happier  ex])ectation  that  might  have 
animated  him  was  extinguislied  by  the  flight  of  chatter  follow- 
ing the  cry  which  had  sounded  like  Beauchamp. 

He  went  oat  into  the  rain,  thinking  that  ]>eauchamp  would 
be  missed.  The  fellow  had  bothered  the  world,  but  the  world 
without  him  w'ould  be  heavy  matter. 

The  hour  was  mid-day,  workmen's  meal-time.  A  congre- 
gation of  shipyard  workmen  and  a  multitude  of  children 
crowded  near  the  door.  In  passing  through  them.  Lord 
Romfrey  w^as  besought  for  the  doctor's  report  of  Commander 
Beauchamp,  variously  named  Beesham,  Bosliam,  Bitcham, 
Bewsham.  The  carl  heard  his  own  name  pronounced  as  he 
particularly  disliked  to  hear  it — Rumfree.  Two  or  three 
men  scowled  at  him. 

It  had  not  occurred  to  him  ever  before  in  his  meditations 
to  separate  his  blood  and  race  from  the  common  English  ; 
and  he  was  not  of  a  character  to  dwell  on  fantastical  and 
purposeless  distinctions,  but  the  mispronunciation  of  his 
name  and  his  nephew's  at  an  instant  when  he  was  thinking 
of  Nevil's  laying  down  his  life  for  such  men  as  these  gross 
excessive  breeders,  of  ill  shape  and  wooden  countenance, 
pushed  him  to  reflections  on  the  madness  of  jSTevil  in  endea- 
vouring to  lift  them  up  and  brush  them  up ;  and  a  curious 
tenderness  for  Nevil's  madness  worked  in  his  breast  as  he 


AT  THE  COTTAGE  ON  THE  COMMON.  463 

contrasted  this  mucli-abused  nephew  of  his  with  our  general 
English — the  so-called  nobles,  who  Avere  sunk  in  the  mud  of 
the  traders  :  the  traders,  who  were  sinking  in  the  mud  of 
the  workmen  :  the  workmen,  who  were  like  harbour-flats  at 
ebb  tide  round  a  stuek-fast  fleet  of  vessels  big  and  little. 

Decidedly  a  fellow  like  Xevil  would  be  missed  by  him  ! 

These  English,  huddling  more  and  more  in  flocks,  turning 
to  lumps,  getting  to  be  cut  in  a  pattern  and  marked  by  a 
label — how  they  bark  and  snap  to  rend  an  obnoxious 
original !  One  may  chafe  at  the  botheration  everlastingly 
raised  by  the  fellow  ;  but  if  our  England  is  to  keep  her  place 
she  must  have  him,  and  many  of  him.  Have  him  ?  He's 
gone  ! 

Lord  Romfrey  reasoned  himself  into  pathetic  sentiment  by 
degrees. 

He  purchased  the  note  paper  and  envelopes  in  the  town 
for  Cecilia.  Late  in  the  afternoon  he  deposited  them  on  the 
parlour  table  at  Dr.  Shrapnel's.  Miss  Denham  received 
him.  She  was  about  to  lie  down  for  her  hour  of  rest  on  the 
sofa.  Cecilia  was  upstairs.  He  inquii-ed  if  there  was  any 
change  in  his  nephew's  condition. 

"  'Not  any,"  said  Miss  Denham. 

The  voice  was  abroad  for  proof  of  that. 

He  stood  with  a  swelling  heart. 

Jenny  flung  out  a  rug  to  its  length  beside  the  sofa,  and, 
holding  it  by  one  end,  said :  "  I  must  have  my  rest,  to  be  of 
service,  my  lord." 

He  bowed.     He  was  mute  and  surprised. 

The  young  lady  was  like  no  person  of  her  age  and  sex 
that  he  remembered  ever  to  have  met. 

"  I  will  close  the  door,"  he  said,  retiring  softly. 

"Do  not,  my  lord." 

The  rug  was  over  her,  up  to  her  throat,  and  her  eyes  were 
shut.  He  looked  back  through  the  doorway  in  going  out. 
She  was  asleep. 

"  Some  delirium.  Gannet  of  good  hope.  All  in  the  usual 
jourse  ;"  he  transmitted  intelligence  to  his  wife. 

A  strong  desire  for  wine  at  his  dinner  table  warned  hira 
Df  something  wrong  with  his  iron  nerves. 


^^"^  BEAUCHAIIP'S  CAEEEB. 


CHAPTER  LL 

IK    THE    NIGHT. 

The  delirious  voice  haunted  him.  It  came  no  longer 
accompanied  by  images  and  likenesses  to  this  and  that  of 
animate  nature,  which  were  relieving  and  distracting  ;  it 
came  to  him  in  its  mortal  nakedness — an  afflicting  incessant 
ringing  peal,  bare  as  death's  ribs  in  telling  of  death.  When 
would  it  stop  ?  And  when  it  stopped,  what  would  suc- 
ceed P     What  ghastly  silence  ! 

He  walked  to  within  view  of  the  lights  at  Dr.  Shrapnel's 
at  night :  then  home  to  his  hotel. 

Miss  Denham's  power  of  commanding  sleep,  as  he  could 
not,  though  contrary  to  custom  he  tried  it  on  the  right  side 
and  the  left,  set  him  thinking  of  her.  He  owned  she  was 
pretty.  But  that,  he  contended,  was  not  ilie  word;  and  the 
word  was  undiscoverable.  Not  Cecilia  Halkett  herself  had 
so  high-bred  an  air,  for  Cecilia  had  not  her  fineness  of  feature 
and  full  quick  eyes,  of  which  the  thin  eyelids  were  part  of 
the  expression.  And  Cecilia  sobbed,  sniffled,  was  patched 
about  the  face,  reddish,  bluish.  This  girl  was  pliable  only 
to  service,  not  to  grief:  she  did  her  work  for  threc-and- 
twenty  hours,  and  fell  to  her  sleep  of  one  hour  like  a  soldier. 
Lord  Romfrey  could  not  recollect  anything  in  a  young 
woman  that  had  taken  him  so  much  as  the  girl's  tossing  out 
of  the  rug  and  covering  hei-self,  lying  down  and  going  to 
sleep  under  his  nose,  absolutely  independent  of  his  presence. 

She  had  not  betrayed  any  woman's  petulance  with  him 
for  his  conduct  to  her  uncle  or  guardian.  ^  Xor  had  she 
hypocritically  affected  the  reverse,  as  ductile  women  do, 
when  they  feel  wanting  in  force  to  do  the  other.  She  was 
not  unlike  Nevil's  marquise  in  face,  he  thought :  less  foreign 
of  course ;  looking  thrice  as  firm.  Both  were  delicately 
featured. 

He  had  a  dream. 

It  was  of  an  interminable  procession  of  that  odd  lot  called 
the  People.  All  of  them  were  quarrelling  under  a  deluge. 
One  party  was  for  umbrellas,  one  was  against  them  :  and 
sounding  the  dispute  with  a  question  or  two,  Everard  held  it 


IN  THE  NIGHT.  4f)5 

logical  that  tliere  should  be  protection  from  the  wet :  just  as 
logical  on  the  other  hand  that  so  frail  a  shelter  should  be 
discarded,  considering  the  tremendous  downpour.  But  as 
he  himself  was  dry,  save  for  two  or  three  drops,  he  deemed 
them  all  lunatics.  He  requested  them  to  gag  their  empty 
chatter-boxes,  and  put  the  mother  upon  that  child's  cry. 

He  was  now  a  simple  unit  of  the  procession.  Asking 
naturally  whither  they  were  going,  he  saw  them  point. 
"  St.  Paul's,"  he  heard.  In  his  own  bosom  it  was,  and 
striking  like  the  cathedral  big  bell. 

Several  ladies  addressed  him  sorrowfully.  He  stood  alone. 
It  had  become  notorious  that  he  was  to  do  battle,  and  no  one 
thought  well  of  his  chances.  Devil  an  enemy  to  be  seen  ! 
he  muttered.  Yet  they  said  the  enemy  was  close  upon  him. 
His  right  arm  was  paralyzed.  There  was  the  enemy  hard 
in  front,  mailed,  vizored,  gauntleted.  He  tried  to  lift  his 
right  hau'l,  and  found  it  grasping  an  iron  ring  at  the  bottom 
of  the  deep  Steynham  well,  sunk  one  hundred  feet  through 
the  chalk.  But  the  unexampled  cunning  of  liis  left  arm  was 
his  little  secret ;  and,  acting  upon  this  knowledge,  he  tele- 
grajihed  to  his  tirst  wife  at  Steynham  that  Dr.  Gannet  was 
of  good  hope,  and  thereupon  he  re-entered  the  ranks  of  the 
voluminous  procession,  already  winding  spirally  round  the 
dome  of  St.  Paul's.  And  there,  said  he,  is  the  tomb  of 
Beanchamp.  Everything  occurred  according  to  his  pre- 
dictions, and  he  was  entirely  devoid  of  astonishment.  Yet 
he  would  fain  have  known  the  titles  of  the  slain  admiral's 
naval  battles.  He  protested  he  had  a  right  to  know,  for  he 
was  the  hero's  uncle,  and  loved  him.  He  assured  the  stupid 
scowling  people  that  he  loved  Nevil  Beauchamp,  always 
loved  the  boy,  and  was  the  staunchest  friend  the  fellow  had. 
And  saying  that,  he  certainly  felt  himself  leaning  up  against 
the  cathedral  rails  in  the  attitude  of  Dr.  Shrapnel,  and  cry- 
ing, "  Beauchamp  !  Beauchamp  !"  And  then  he  walked 
firmly  out  of  Romfrey  oak-woods,  and,  at  a  mile's  distance 
from  her,  related  to  his  countess  Rosamund  that  the  burial 
was  over  without  much  silly  ceremony,  and  that  she  needed 
to  know  nothing  of  it  whatever. 

Rosamund's  face  awoke  him.  It  was  the  face  of  a  chalk- 
quarry,  featureless,  hollowed,  appalling. 

The  hour  was  no  later  than  three  in  the  morning.  He 
quitted  the  detestable  bed  where  a  dream — one  of  some  half- 

2h 


466  BEATJCHAMP'S  CAEEEF. 

dozen  in  the  conrse  of  his  life — had  befallen  him.  For  the 
maxim  of  the  healthy  man  is  :  up,  and  have  it  out  in  exercise 
when  sleep  is  for  foisting  base  coin  of  dreams  upon  yon  ! 
And  as  the  healthy  only  are  fit  to  live,  their  maxims  should 
be  law.  He  dressed  and  directed  his  leisurely  steps  to 
the  common,  under  a  black  sky  and  stars  of  lively 
brilliancy.  The  lights  of  a  carriage  gleamed  on  Dr.  Shrap- 
nel's door.  A  footman  informed  Lord  Romfrey  that  Colonel 
Halkett  was  in  the  house,  and  soon  afterward  the  colonel 
appeared. 

"  Is  it  over  ?     I  don't  hear  him,"  said  Lord  Romfrey. 

Colonel  Halkett  grasped  his  hand.  "  Not  yet,"  he  said. 
"  Cissy  can't  be  got  away.  It's  killing  her.  No,  he's  alive. 
You  may  hear  him  now." 

Lord  Romfrey  bent  his  ear. 

"  It's  weaker,"  the  colonel  resumed.  "  By  the  way,  Rom- 
frey, step  out  with  me.  My  dear  friend,  the  circumstances 
will  excuse  me:  you  know  I'm  not  a  man  to  take  liberties. 
I'm  bound  to  tell  you  what  your  wife  writes  to  me.  She 
says  she  has  it  on  her  conscience,  and  can't  rest  for  it.  You 
know  women.  She  wants  you  to  speak  to  the  man  here — ■ 
Shrapnel.  She  wants  Nevil  to  hear  that  you  and  he  were 
friendly  before  he  dies  ;  thinks  it  would  console  the  poor 
dear  fellow.  That's  only  an  idea  ;  but  it  concerns  her,  you 
see.     I'm  shocked  to  have  to  talk  to  you  about  it." 

"  My  dear  colonel,  I  have  no  feeling  against  the  man," 
Lord  Romfrey  replied.  "  I  spoke  to  him  when  I  saw  hin? 
yesterday.  I  bear  no  gi^udges.  Where  is  he  ?  You  can 
send  to  her  to  say  I  have  spoken  to  him  twice." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  the  colonel  assented. 

He  could  not  imagine  that  Lady  Romfrey  required  more 
of  her  husband.  "  Well,  I  must  be  off.  I  leave  Blackburn 
Tuckham  here,  -wath  a  friend  of  his  ;  a  man  who  seems  to  be 
very  sweet  with  Mrs.  Wardour-Devereux." 

"Ha  !  Fetch  him  to  me,  colonel ;  I  beg  you  to  do  that," 
said  Lord  Romfrey. 

The  colonel  brought  out  Lydiard  to  the  earl. 

"  You  have  been  at  my  nephew's  bedside,  Mr.  Lydiard  ?" 

"  Within  ten  minutes,  my  lord." 

"  What  is  your  opinion  of  the  case  ?" 

"  My  opinion  is,  the  chances  are  in  his  favour." 

"  Lay  me  under  obligation  by  communicating  that  to  Rom- 


QUESTION  OF  PILGRIMAGE  AND  PENANCE.  467 

frey  Castle  at  the  first  opening  of  the  telegraph  office  to- 
morrow morning." 

Ljdiard  promised. 

"  The  raving  has  ended  ?" 

"  Hardly,  sir,  but  the  exhaustion  is  less  than  we  feared  it 
would  be." 

"  Gannet  is  there  ?" 

"  He  is  in  an  arm-chair  in  the  room." 

"And  Dr.  Shrapnel  ?" 

"  He  does  not  bear  speaking  to  ;  he  is  quiet.'* 

"  He  is  attached  to  my  nephew  ?" 

"As  much  as  to  life  itself." 

Lord  Romfrey  thanked  Lydiard  courteously.  "Let  us 
hope,  sir,  that  some  day  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  enter- 
taining you,  as  well  as  another  friend  of  yours." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  my  lord." 

The  earl  stood  at  the  door  to  see  Colonel  Halkett  drive 
off  :  he  declined  to  accompany  him  to  Mount  Laurels. 

In  the  place  of  the  carriage  stood  a  man,  who  growled : 
"Where's  your  horsewhip,  butcher  ?" 

He  dogged  the  earl  some  steps  across  the  common. 
Everard  returned  to  his  hotel  and  slept  soundly  during  the 
remainder  of  the  dark  hoars. 


CHAPTER  LII. 

QUESTION  OF  A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  AN  ACT  OF  PENANCE. 

Then  came  a  glorious  morning  for  sportsmen.  One  sniffed 
the  dews,  and  could  fancy  fresh  smells  of  stubble  earth  and 
dank  woodland  grass  in  the  very  streets  of  dirty  Bevisham. 
Sound  sleep,  like  hearty  dining,  endows  men  with  a  sense  of 
rectitude,  and  sunlight  following  the  former,  as  a  pleasant 
spell  of  conversational  ease  or  sweet  music  the  latter, 
smiles  a  celestial  approval  of  the  perfoi-mance.  Lord  Rom- 
frey  dismissed  his  anxieties.  His  lady  slightly  ruffled  him 
at  breakfast  in  a  letter  saying  that  she  wished  to  join  him. 
He  was  annoyed  at  noon  by  a  message,  wherein  the  wish  was 
put  as  a  request.  And  later  arrived  another  message,  bear- 
2h  2 


468 

ing  tlie  character  of  an  urgent  petition.     True,  it  miglit  be 
laid  to  the  account  of  telegraphic  brevity. 

He  saw  Dr.  Shrapnel,  and  spoke  to  him,  as  before,  to 
thank  him  for  the  permission  to  visit  his  nephew.  Nevil 
he  contemplated  for  the  space  of  five  minutes.  He  cordially- 
saluted  Miss  Denham.     He  kissed  Cecilia's  hand. 

"  All  here  is  going  on  so  well  that  I  am  with  you  for  a 
day  or  two  to-morrow,"  he  despatched  the  message  to  his 
wife. 

Her  case  was  now  the  gravest.  He  could  not  understand 
why  she  desired  to  be  in  Bevisham.  She  must  have  had 
execrable  dreams  ! — rank  poison  to  mothers. 

However,  her  constitutional  strength  was  great,  and  his 
pride  in  the  restoration  of  his  House  by  her  agency  flourished 
anew,  what  with  fair  weather  and  a  favourable  report  from 
Dr.  Gannei.  The  weather  was  most  propitious  to  the  hopes 
of  any  seal  bent  on  dispersing  the  shadows  of  death,  and  to 
sportsmen.  From  the  windows  of  his  railway  carriage  he 
beheld  the  happy  sportsmen  stalking  afield.  The  birds 
whirred  and  dropped  just  where  he  counted  on  their 
dropping.  The  smoke  of  the  guns  threaded  to  dazzling 
silver  in  the  sunshine.  Say  what  poor  old  Nevil  will,  or 
did  say,  previous  to  the  sobering  of  his  blood,  where  is  thero 
a  land  like  England  ?  Evei-ard  rejoiced  in  his  countr}'  tem- 
perately. Ha\  ing  N^evil  as  well, — of  which  fact  the  report 
he  was  framing  in  his  mind  to  deliver  to  his  wife  assured 
him — he  was  rich.  ^  And  you  that  [)ut  youi-selves  forward  for 
republicans  and  democrats,  do  you  deny  the  aristocracy  of 
an  oaklike  man  who  is  young  upon  the  verge  of  eighty  ? 

These  were  poetic  fliglits,  but  he  knew  them  not  by  name, 
and  had  not  to  be  ashamed  of  them. 

Rosamund  met  him  in  the  hall  of  the  castle.  "  You  have 
not  deceived  me,  my  dear  lord,"  she  said,  embracing  him. 
"  You  have  done  what  you  could  for  me.  The  rest  is  for  me 
to  do." 

He  reciprocated  her  embrace  warmly,  in  commendation  of 
her  fresher  good  looks. 

She  asked  him,  "  You  have  spoken  to  Dr.  Shi'apnel  ?'* 

He  answered  her,  "  Twice." 


QUESTIOX  OF  PILGEIMAGE  AND  TEXANCE.  4(59 

The  word  seemed  quaint.  She  recollected  that  he  was 
quaint. 

He  repeated,  "  I  spoke  to  him  the  first  day  I  saw  him, 
and  the  second." 

"  We  are  so  much  indebted  to  him,"  said  Rosamund.  "  His 
love  of  Nevil  surpasses  ours.  Poor  man !  poor  man  !  At 
least  we  may  now  hope  the  blow  will  be  spared  him  which 
would  have  carried  off  his  life  with  N evil's.  I  have  later 
news  of  Nevil  than  you." 

"  Good,  of  course  ?" 

"  Ah  me  !  the  pleasure  of  the  absence  of  pain.  He  is  not 
gone  " 

Lord  Romfrey  liked  her  calm  resignation. 

"  There's  a  Mr.  Lydiard,"  he  said,  "  a  friend  of  Nevil's, 
and  a  friend  of  Louise  Devereux's." 

"  Yes  ;  we  hear  from  him  every  four  hours,"  Rosamund 
rejoined.     "  Mention  him  to  her  before  me." 

"  That's  exactly  what  I  was  going-  to  tell  you  to  do  before 
me,"  said  her  husband  smiling. 

"  Because,  Evevard,  is  it  not  so  ? — widows  ....  and  she 
loves  this  gentleman  !" 

"  Certainly,  my  dear ;  I  think  with  yon  about  widows. 
The  world  asks  them  to  practise  its  own  hypocrisy.  Louise 
Devereux  was  married  to  a  pipe ;  she's  the  widow  of  tobacco 
ash.     We'll  make  daylight  round  her." 

"How  good,  how  kind  you  are,  my  lord  !  I  did  not  think 
so  shrewd !  But  benevolence  is  almost  all-seeing.  You 
said  yoa  spoke  to  Dr.  Shrapnel  twice.  Was  he  ...  . 
polite  ?" 

"  Thoroughly  upset,  you  know." 

"  What  did  he  say  ?" 

"  What  was  it  ?  '  Beauchamp  !  Beau  champ  !'  the  first 
time ;  and  the  second  time  he  said  he  thought  it  had  left  off 
raining." 

"  Ah  !"  Rosamund  drooped  her  head. 

She  looked  up.  "  Here  is  Louise.  My  lord  has  had  a 
long  conversation  with  Mr.  Lydiard." 

"  I  trust  he  will  come  here  before  you  leave  us,"  added 
the  earl. 

Rosamund  took  her  hand.  "  My  lord  has  been  more 
acute  than  I,  or  else  your  friend  is  less  guarded  than  you." 

"  What  have  you  seen  ?"  said  the  blushing  ludy. 


470  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  Stay.  I  have  an  idea  you  are  one  of  the  women  I  pro- 
mised to  Cecil  Baskelett,"  said  the  earl.  "  Now  may  I  tell 
him  there's  no  chance  ?" 

"Oh!  do." 

They  spent  so  very  pleasant  an  evening  that  the  earl 
settled  down  into  a  comfortable  expectation  of  the  renewal 
of  his  old  habits  in  the  September  and  October  season. 
N'evil's  frightful  cry  played  on  his  ear-drum  at  whiles,  but 
not  too  affectingly.  He  conducted  Rosamund  to  her  room, 
kissed  her,  hoped  she  would  sleep  well,  and  retired  to  his 
good  hard  bachelor's  bed,  where  he  confidently  supposed  he 
would  sleep.  The  sleep  of  a  dyspeptic,  with  a  wilder  than 
the  monstrous  Bevisham  dream,  befell  him,  causing  him  to 
rise  at  three  in  the  morning  and  proceed  to  his  lady's 
chamber,  to  assure  himself  that  at  least  she  slept  well.  She 
was  awake. 

"  I  thought  you  might  come,"  she  said. 

He  reproached  her  gently  for  indulging  fooli.sh  nervous 
fears. 

She  replied,  "  Xo,  I  do  not ;  I  am  easier  about  Nevil.  I 
begin  to  think  he  will  live.  I  have  something  at  my  heart 
that  prevents  me  from  sleeping.  It  concei-ns  me.  Whether 
he  is  to  live  or  die,  I  should  like  him  to  know  he  lias  not 
striven  in  vain — not  in  everything  :  not  where  my  conscience 
tells  me  he  was  right,  and  we,  I,  wrong — utterly  wrong, 
wickedly  wrong." 

"  My  dear  girl,  you  are  exciting  yourself." 

*'  No  ;  feel  my  pulse.  The  dead  of  night  brings  out  Nevil 
to  me  like  the  Writing  on  the  Wall.  It  shall  not  be  said 
he  failed  in  everything.  Shame  to  us  if  it  could  be  said ! 
He  tried  to  make  me  see  what  my  duty  was,  and  my 
honour." 

"  He  was  at  every  man  Jack  of  us." 

"  I  speak  of  one  thing.  I  thought  I  might  not  have  to  go. 
Now  I  feel  I  must.  I  remember  him  at  Steynham,  wh^n 
Colonel  Halkett  and  Cecilia  were  there.  But  for  me,  Cecilia 
would  now  be  his  wife.  Of  that  there  is  no  doubt ;  that  is 
not  the  point ;  regrets  are  fruitless.  I  see  how  the  struggle 
it  cost  him  to  break  with  his  old  love — that  endearing 
Madame  de  Rouaillout,  his  Renee— broke  his  heart ;  and 
then  his  loss  of  Cecilia  Halkett.  But  I  do  believe,  true  u.s 
that  I  am  lying  here,  and  you  hold  my  hand,  my  dear  bus* 


QUESTION-  OF  PILGETMAGE  AND  PENANCE.  471 

"band,  fhose  losses  were  not  so  fatal  to  him  as  the  sufferings 
he  went  through  on  account  of  his  friend  Dr.  Shrapnel.  I 
will  not  keep  you  here.  Go  and  have  some  rest.  What  I 
shall  beg  of  you  to-morrow  will  not  injure  my  health  in  the 
slightest  :  the  i-everse :  it  will  raise  me  from  a  bitter 
depression.  It  shall  not  be  said  that  those  who  loved  him 
were  unmoved  by  him.  Before  he  comes  back  to  life,  or  is 
carried  to  his  grave,  he  shall  know  that  I  was  not  false  to 
my  love  of  him." 

"  My  dear,  your  pulse  is  at  ninety,"  said  the  earl. 

"Look  lenient,  be  kind,  be  just,  my  husband.  Oh  !  let  us 
cleanse  our  hearts.  This  great  wrong  was  my  doing.  I  am 
not  only  quite  strong  enough  to  travel  to  Bevisham,  I  shall  be 
happy  in  going  :  and  when  I  have  done  it — said  :  '  The  wrong 
was  all  mine,'  I  shall  rejoice  like  the  pure  in  spirit.  For- 
giveness does  not  matter,  though  I  now  believe  that  poor 
loving  old  man  who  waits  outside  his  door  weeOag,  is  wrong- 
headed  only  in  his  political  views.  ^^We  women  can  read 
men  by  their  power  to  love.  Where  love  exists  there  is 
goodness.  But  it  is  not  for  the  sake  of  the  poor  old  man 
himself  that  I  would  go:  it  is  for  Nevil's  :  it  is  for  ours, 
chiefly  for  me,  for  my  child's,  if  ever  !..,."  Rosamund 
turned  her  head  on  her  pillow. 

The  earl  patted  her  cheek.  "  We'll  talk  it  over  in  the 
morning,"  he  said.     "  Now  go  to  sleep." 

He  could  not  say  more,  for  he  did  not  dare  to  attempt 
cajolery  with  her.  Shading  his,  lamp  he  stepped  softly 
away  to  wrestle  with  a  worse  nightmare  than  sleep's.  Her 
meaning  was  clear:  and  she  was  a  woman  to  insist  on  doing- 
it.  She  was  nevertheless  a  woman  not  impervious  to  reason, 
if  only  he  could  shape  her  understanding  to  perceive  that  the 
state  of  her  nerves,  incident  to  her  delicate  situation  and  the 
shock  of  that  fellow  Nevil's  illness — poor  lad  ! — was  acting 
on  her  mind,  rendering  her  a  victim  of  exaggerated  ideas  of 
duty,  and  so  forth. 

Xaturally,  apart  from  allowing  her  to  undertake  tlie 
journey  by  rail,  he  could  not  sanction  his  lady's  humbling  of 
herself  so  egregiously  and  unnecessarily.  Shrapnel  had 
behaved  unbecomingly,  and  had  been  punished  for  it.  He 
had  spoken  to  Shrapnel,  and  the  affair  was  virtually  at  an 
end.     With   his    assistance   she    would   see    that,  when  less 


472  BEATJCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

excited.  Her  eternal  brooding  over  N^evil  was  tlie  cause  of 
these  mental  vagaries. 

Lord  Romfrej  ^Yas  for  postponing  tlie  appointed  discussion  in 
themorning  after  breakfast.  He  pleaded  business  engagements. 

"  None  so  urgent  as  this  of  mine,"  said  Rosamund. 

"But  we  have  excellent  news  of  l^evil :  you  have  Gannct'.s 
word  for  it,"  he  argued.  "  There's  really  nothing  to  distress 
you." 

"  My  heart :  I  must  be  worthy  of  good  news,  to  know  hap- 
piness," she  answered.  "  I  will  say,  let  me  go  to  Bevishara 
two,  three,  four  days  hence,  if  you  like,  but  there  is  peace 
for  me,  and  nowhere  else." 

"  My  precious  Rosamund  !  have  you  set  your  two  eyes  on 
it  ?  What  you  are  asking,  is  for  permission  to  make  an 
apology  to  Shrapnel!" 

"  That  is  the  word." 

"  That's  Nevil's  word." 

**  It  is  a  prescription  to  me." 

"An  apology  ?" 

The  earl's  gorge  rose.  Why,  such  an  act  was  comparable 
to  the  circular  mission  of  the  dog ! 

"  If  I  do  not  make  the  apology,  the  mother  of  your  child 
is  a  coward,"  said  Rosamund. 

"  She's  not." 

"  I  trust  not." 

"  You  are  a  reasonable  woman,  my  dear.  Now  listen : 
the  man  insulted  you.  It's  past :  done  with.  He  insulted 
you  .  .  ." 

"He  did  not." 

"What?" 

"  He  was  courteous  to  me,  hospitable  to  me,  kind  to  me. 
He  did  not  insult  me.     I  belied  him." 

"  My  dear  saint,  you're  dreaming.  He  spoke  insultingly 
of  you  to  Cecil." 

"  Is  my  lord  that  man's  dupe  ?  I  would  stand  against 
him  before  the  throne  of  God,  with  what  little  I  know  of  his 
interview  with  Dr.  Shrapnel,  to  confront  him  and  exjDose  his 
lie.  Do  not  speak  of  him.  He  stirs  my  evil  passions,  and 
makes  me  feel  myself  the  creature  I  was  when  I  I'etunic  '  to 
Steynham  from  my  first  visit  to  Bevisham,  enraged  with 
jealousy  of  Dr.  Shrapnel's  influence  over  Nevil,  spiteful, 
malicious:     Oh  !  such  a  nest  of  vileness  as  I  pray  to  heaven 


QUESTION  OF  PILGRIMAGE  AND  PENANCD.  473 

I  am  not  now,  if  it  is  granted  me  to  give  life  to  another. 
Nevil's  misfortunes  date  from  that,"  she  continued,  in  reply 
to  the  earl's  elforts  to  soothe  her.  "  N'ot  the  loss  of  the  elec- 
tion: that  was  no  misfortune,  but  a  lesson.  He  would  not  have 
shone  in  Parliament :  he  runs  too  much  from  first  principles 
to  extremes.  You  see  I  am  perfectly  reasonable,  Everard : 
I  can  form  an  exact  estimate  of  character  and  things."  She 
smiled  in  his  face.  "  And  I  know  my  husband  too :  what 
he  will  grant ;  what  he  would  not,  and  justly  would  not.  I 
know  to  a  certainty  that  vexatious  as  I  must  be  to  you  now. 
you  are  conscious  of  my  having  reason  for  being  so." 

"  You  carry  it  so  far — fifty  miles  beyond  the  mark,"  said  he. 
"  The  man  roughed  you,  and  I  taught  him  manners." 

"  No  !"  she  half  screamed  her  interposition.  "  I  repeat,  he 
was  in  no  way  discourteous  or  disobliging  to  me.  He  oifered 
me  a  seat  at  his  table,  and,  heaven  forgive  me !  I  believe  a 
bed  in  his  house,  that  I  might  wait  and  be  sure  of  seeing 
Nevil,  because  I  was  very  anxious  to  see  him." 

"  All  the  same,  you  can't  go  to  the  man." 

"  I  should  have  said  so  too,  before  my  destiny  touched  me." 

"  A  certain  dignity  of  position,  my  dear,  demands  a  corre- 
sponding dignity  of  conduct :  you  can't  go." 

"  If  I  am  walking  in  the  very  eye  of  heaven,  and  feeling 
it  shining  on  me  where  I  go,  there  is  no  question  for  me  of 
human  dignity." 

Such  flighty  talk  offended  Lord  Romfrey. 

"  It  comes  to  this  :  you're  in  want  of  a  parson." 

Rosamund  was  too  careful  to  hint  that  she  would  have 
expected  succour  and  seconding  from  one  or  other  of  the 
better  order  of  clergymen. 

She  shook  her  head.  "To  this,  my  dear  lord:  I  have  a 
troubled  mind ;  and  it  is  not  to  listen  nor  to  talk,  that  I  am 
in  need  of,  but  to  act." 

"  Yes,  my  dear  girl,  but  not  to  act  insanely.  I  do  love 
soundness  of  head.  You  have  it,  only  just  now  you're  a  little 
astray.     We'll  leave  this  matter  for  another  time." 

Rosamund  held  him  by  the  arm.     "  Xot  too  long !" 

Both  of  them  applied  privately  to  Mrs.  Wardour-Devereux 
for  her  opinion  and  counsel  on  the  subject  of  the  proposal  to 
apologize  to  Dr.  Shrapnel.  She  was  against  it  with  the  earl, 
and  became  Rosamund's  echo  when  with  her.     When  alone, 


-174  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

she  was  divided  into  two  almost  equal  halves  :  deeming  that 
the  countess  should  not  insist,  and  the  earl  should  not  refuse  : 
him  she  condemned  for  lack  of  sufficient  spiritual  insight  to 
perceive  the  merits  of  his  wife's  request :  her  she  accused  of 
some  vestige  of  something  underbred  in  her  nature,  for 
putting  such  fervid  stress  upon  the  supplication :  i.e.  making 
too  much  of  it — a  trick  of  the  vulgar  :  and  not  known  to  the 
languid. 

She  wrote  to  Lydiard  for  advice. 

He  condensed  a  paragraph  into  a  line : 

"  It  should  be  the  earl.  She  is  driving  him  to  it,  inten- 
tionally or  not." 

Mrs.  Devereux  doubted  that  the  countess  could  have  so 
false  an  idea  of  her  husband's  character  as  to  think  it  pos- 
sible he  would  ever  be  bent  to  humble  himself  to  the  man  he 
had  castigated.  She  was  right.  It  was  by  honestly  pre- 
senting to  his  mind  something  more  loathsome  still,  the 
humbling  of  himself,  that  Rosamund  succeeded  in  awaken- 
ing some  remote  thoughts  of  a  compromise,  in  case  of 
necessity.     Better  I  than  she  ! 

But  the  necessity  was  inconceivable. 

He  had  really  done  everything  required  of  him,  if  anything 
was  really  i-eciuired,  by  speaking  to  Shrapnel  civilly.  He 
had  spoken  to  Shrapnel  twice. 

Besides,  the  castle  was  being  gladdened  by  happier  tidings 
of  Beauchamp.  Gannet  now  pledged  his  word  to  the  poor 
fellow's  recovery,  and  the  earl's  particular  friends  arrived,  and 
the  countess  entertained  them.     October  passed  smoothly. 

She  said  once :  "  Ancestresses  of  yours,  my  lord,  have 
undertaken  pilgrinuiges  as  acts  of  penance  for  sin,  to  obtain 
heaven's  intercession  in  their  extremity." 

"  I  dare  say  they  did,"  he  replied.  "  The  monks  got  round 
them." 

"  It  is  not  to  be  laughed  at,  if  it  eased  their  hearts." 

Timidly  she  renewed  her  request  for  permission  to  perform 
the  pilgrimage  to  Bevisham. 

"  Wait,"  said  he,  "  till  Nevil  is  on  his  legs." 

"  Have  you  considered  where  I  may  then  be,  Everard  ?'* 

"  My  love,  you  sleep  well,  don't  you  ?" 

**  You  see  me  every  niglit." 


QUESTIOX  OF  PILGRIMAGE  AND  PEXANCE.  475 

-   "  I  see  you  sound  asleep." 

"I  see  you  watching  me." 

"  Let's  reason,"  said  the  earl ;  and  again  they  went  throuo-h 
the  argument  upon  the  apology  to  Dr.  Shrapnel. 

He  was  willing  to  indulge  her  in  any  amount  of  it :  and 
she  perceived  why.  Fox  !  she  thought.  Grand  fox,  but  fox 
downright.  For  her  time  was  shortening  to  days  that  would 
leave  her  no  free-will. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  exercise  of  her  free-will  in  a  fast 
resolve,  was  growing  all  the  more  a  privilege  that  he  Avas 
bound  to  respect.  As  she  became  sacreder  and  doubly 
precious  to  him,  the  less  would  he  venture  to  thwart  her, 
though  he  should  think  her  mad.  There  would  be  an 
analogy  between  his  manner  of  regarding  her  and  the  way 
that  superstitious  villagers  look  on  their  crazy  innocents, 
she  thought  sadly.  And  she  bled  for  him  too :  she  grieved 
to  hurt  his  pride.  But  she  had  come  to  imagine  that  there 
was  no  avoidance  of  this  deed  of  personal  humiliation. 

Nevil  had  scrawled  a  note  to  her.  She  had  it  in  her  hand 
one  forenoon  in  mid  November,  when  she  said  to  her  hus- 
band :  "  I  have  ordered  the  carriage  for  two  o'clock  to  m.eet 
the  quarter  to  three  train  to  London,  and  I  have  sent  Stanton 
on  to  get  the  house  ready  for  us  to-night." 

Lord  Romfrey  levelled  a  marksman's  eye  at  her. 

"  Why  London  ?  You  know  my  wish  that  it  should  be 
here  at  the  castle." 

"  I  have  decided  to  go  to  Bevisham.  I  have  little  time 
left." 

"  None,  to  my  thinking." 

"  Oh  !  yes  ;  my  heart  will  be  light.  I  shall  gain.  You 
come  with  me  to  London  ?" 

"  You  can't  go." 

"  Don't  attempt  to  reason  with  me,  please,  please  !'* 

"  I  command,  madam." 

"  My  lord,  it  is  past  the  hour  of  commanding." 

He  nodded  his  head,  with  the  eyes  up  amid  the  puckered 
brows,  and  blowing  one  of  his  long  nasal  expirations,  cried, 
"  Here  we  are,  in  for  another  bout  of  argument !" 

"  No  ;  I  can  bear  the  jouniey,  rejoice  in  confessing  mv 
fault,  but  more  argument  I  cannot  bear.  I  will  reason  wiclj 
you  when  I  can :  submit  to  me  in  this." 


476  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

"  Feminine  reasoning !"  lie  interjected. 

"  I  have  nothing  better  to  offer.  It  will  be  prudent  to 
attend  to  me.  Take  my  conduct  for  the  portion  I  bring  you. 
Before  I  put  myself  in  God's  care  I  must  be  clean.  I  am 
unclean.  Language  like  that  oifends  you.  I  have  no  better. 
^»[y  reasoning  has  not  touched  you  ;  I  am  helpless,  except  in 
this  determination  that  my  contrition  shall  be  expressed  to 
Dr.  Shrapnel.  If  I  am  to  have  life,  to  be  worthy  of  living 
and  being  a  mother,  it  must  be  done.  Now,  my  dear  lord, 
see  that,  and  submit.     You're  but  one  voice :  I  am  two." 

He  jumped  off  his  chair,  frowning  up  his  forehead,  and 
staring  awfully  at  the  insulting  prospect.  "  An  apology  to 
the  man  ?     By  you  ?     Away  with  it." 

"  Make  allowances  for  me  if  you  can,  my  dear  lord :  that 
is  what  I  am  going  to  do." 

"  My  wife  going  there  ?'*  He  strode  along  fui'iously. 
*'No!" 

"  You  will  not  stop  her." 

*'  There's  a  palsy  in  my  arm  if  I  don't." 

She  plucked  at  her  watch. 

*'  Why,  ma'am,  I  don't  know  you,"  he  snid,  coming  close 
to  her.  "Let's  reason.  Perhaps  you  overshot  it ;  you  were 
disgusted  with  Shrapnel.  Perhaps  I  was  hasty  ;  I  get  tired 
by  an  insult  to  a  woman.  There  was  a  rascal  kissed  a  girl 
once  against  her  will,  and  I  heard  her  cry  out;  I  laid  him  on 
his  back  for  six  months  ; — ^just  to  tell  you  ;  I'd  do  the  same 
to  lord  or  beggar.  Yery  well,  my  dear  heart,  we'll  own  I 
might  have  looked  into  the  case  when  that  dog  Cecil  .... 
what's  the  matter  ?" 

"  Speak  on,  my  dear  husband,"  said  Rosamund,  panting. 

"  But  your  making  the  journey  to  Bevisham  is  a  foolish 
notion." 

"Yes?  well?" 

"  Well,  we'll  wait." 

"  Oh  !  have  we  to  travel  over  it  all  again  ?"  she  exclaimed 
in  despair  at  the  dashing  out  of  a  light  she  had  fancied. 
"  You  see  the  wrong.  You  know  the  fever  it  is  in  my  blood, 
and  you  bid  me  wait." 

"  Drop  a  line  to  Nevil." 

"  To  trick  my  conscience !  I  might  have  done  that,  and 
done  well,  once.  Do  you  think  I  dislike  the  task  I  propose 
to  myself  ?     It  is  for  your  sake  that  I  would  shun  it.     As 


QUESTION  OF  PILGRIMAGE  AND  PENANCE.  477 

for  me,  the  thought  of  going  there  is  an  ecstasy.  I  shall  be 
with  Nevil,  and  be  able  to  look  in  his  face.  And  how  can  I 
be  actually  abasing  you  when  I  am  so  certain  that  I  am 
worthier  of  you  in  what  I  do  ?" 

Her  exaltation  swept  her  on.  "  Hurry  there,  my  lord,  if 
you  will.  If  you  think  it  prudent  that  you  should  go  in  my 
place,  go :  you  deprive  me  of  a  great  joy,  but  I  will  not  put 
myself  in  your  way,  and  I  consent.  The  chief  sin  was  mine ; 
remember  that.  I  rank  it  viler  than  Cecil  Baskelett's.  And 
listen :  ivhen — can  you  reckon  ? — when  will  he  confess  his 
wickedness  ?  We  separate  ourselves  from  a  wretch  like 
that." 

"  Pooh,"  quoth  the  earl. 

"But  you  will  go?"  She  fastened  her  arms  round  the 
arm  nearest :  "  You  or  I !  Does  it  matter  which  ?  We  are 
one.  You  speak  for  me ;  I  should  have  been  forced  to  speak 
for  you.  You  spare  me  the  journey.  I  do  not  in  truth  sup- 
pose it  would  have  injured  me;  but  I  would  not  run  one 
unnecessary  risk." 

Lord  Romfrey  sighed  profoundly.  He  could  not  shake 
her  off.     How  could  he  refuse  her  ? 

How  on  earth  had  it  come  about  that  suddenly  he  was 
expected  to  be  the  person  to  go  ? 

She  would  not  let  him  elude  her ;  and  her  stained  cheeks 
and  her  trembling  on  his  arm  pleaded  most  pressingly  and 
masteringly.  It  might  be  that  she  spoke  with  a  knowledge 
of  her  case.  Positive  it  undoubtedly  was  that  she  meant  to 
go  if  he  did  not.  Perhaps  the  hopes  of  his  House  hung  on 
it.  Having  admitted  that  a  wrong  had  been  done,  he  was 
not  the  man  to  leave  it  unamended;  only  he  would  have 
chosen  his  time,  and  the  manner.  Since  ISTevil's  illness,  too, 
he  had  once  or  twice  been  clouded  with  a  little  bit  of  regret 
at  the  recollection  of  poor  innocent  old  Shrapnel  posted  like 
a  figure  of  total  inebriation  beside  the  doorway  of  the  dread- 
ful sickroom. 

There  had  been  women  of  the  earl's  illustrious  House  who 
would  have  given  their  hands  to  the  axe  rather  than  conceal 
a  stain  and  have  to  dread  a  scandal.  His  Rosamund,  after 
kU,  was  of  their  pattern  ;  even  though  she  blew  that  con- 
science she  prattled  of  into  trifles,  and  swelled  them,  as 
women  of  high  birth  in  this  country,  out  of  the  clutches  of 
the  priests,  do  not  do. 


478  BEAUCHAMP'S  CARBEfi, 

She  cliirig'  to  liim  for  liis  promise  to  go. 
He  said:  "Well,  well." 
"  That  means,  you  will,"  said  she. 
His  not  denying  it  passed  for  the  affirmative. 
Then  indeed  she  bloomed  with  love  of  him. 
"  Yet  do  say  yes,"  she  begged. 

"  I'll  go,  ma'am,"  shouted  the  earl.     "  I'll  go,  my  love," 
he  said  softly. 


CHAPTER  LTII. 

THE  APOLOGY  TO  DR.  SHRAPNEL. 


"  You  and  Nevil  are  so  alike,"  Lady  Romfrey  said  to  her 
lord,  at  some  secret  resemblance  she  detected  and  dwelt  on 
fondly,  when  the  earl  was  on  the  point  of  starting  a  second 
time  for  Bevisham  to  perform  what  she  had  prompted  him 
to  conceive  his  honourable  duty,  without  a  single  intimation 
that  he  loathed  the  task,  neither  shrug  nor  grimace. 

"  Two  ends  of  a  stick  are  pretty  much  alike :  they'i-e  all 
that  length  apart,"  said  he,  very  little  in  the  humour  for 
compliments,  however  well  braced  for  his  Avork. 

His  wife's  admiring  love  was  pleasant  enough.  He  pre- 
ferred to  have  it  unspoken.  Few  of  us  care  to  be  eulogized 
in  the  act  of  taking  a  nauseous  medical  mixture. 

For  him  the  thing  was  as  good  as  done,  on  his  deciding  to 
think  it  both  adviseable  and  right :  so  he  shouldered  his  load 
and  marched  off  with  it.  He  could  have  postponed  the 
right  proceeding,  even  after  the  partial  recognition  of  his 
error: — one  drops  a  word  or  two  by  hazard,  one  expresses 
an  anxiety  to  afford  reparation,  one  sends  a  message,  and  so 
forth,  for  the  satisfaction  of  one's  conventionally  gentlemanly 
feeling:  —  but  the  adviseable  proceeding  under  stress  of 
peculiar  circumstances,  his  clearly-awakened  recognition  of 
that,  impelled  him  unhesitatingly.  His  wife  had  said  it  was 
the  portion  she  brought  him.  Tears  would  not  have  per- 
suaded him  so  powerfully,  that  he  might  prove  to  her  he  v  as 


THE  APOLOGY  TO  DR.  SHKAPXEL,  479 

.frlad  of  her  whatever  the  portion  she  brought.  She  was  a 
good  wife,  a  brave  woman,  likely  to  be  an  inconiparable 
mother.  At  present  her  very  virtues  excited  her  to  fanciful- 
ness  :  nevertheless  she  was  in  his  charge,  and  he  was  bound 
to  break  the  neck  of  his  will,  to  give  her  perfect  peac'  of 
mind.  The  child  suffers  from  the  mother's  mental  agitation. 
It  mioht  be  a  question  of  a  nervons  or  an  idiot  future  Earl 
of  Komfrey.  Better  death  to  the  House  than  such  a 
mockery  of  his  line  !  These  reflections  reminded  him  of  the 
heartiness  of  his  whipping  of  that  poor  old  tumbled  sign- 
post Shrapnel,  in  the  name  of  outraged  womankind.  If  there 
was  no  outrage  P 

Assuredly  if  thei-e  was  no  outrage,  consideration  for  the 
state  of  his  wife  would  urge  him  to  speak  the  apology  in  the 
most  natural  manner  possible.     She  vowed  there  was  none. 

He  never  thought  of  blaming  her  for  formerly  deceiving 
him,  nor  of  blaming  her  for  now  expediting  him. 

In  the  presence  of  Colonel  Halkett,  Mr.  Tuckham,  and 
Mr.  Lydiard,  on  a  tine  i^ovember  afternoon,  standing  bare- 
headed in  the  fir-bordered  garden  of  the  cottage  on  the  com- 
mon, Lord  Romfrey  delivered  his  apology  to  Dr.  Shrapnel, 
and  he  said  : 

"  I  call  you  to  witness,  gentlemen,  I  offer  Dr.  Shrapnel 
the  fullest  reparation  he  may  think  tit  to  demand  of  me  for 
an  unprovoked  assault  on  him,  that  I  find  was  quite  unjtisti- 
fied,  and  for  which  I  am  here  to  ask  his  forgiveness." 

Speech  of  man  could  not  have  been  more  nobly  uttered. 

Dr.  Shrapnel  replied : 

"To  the  half  of  that,  sir — 'tis  over!  What  remains  is 
done  with  the  hand." 

He  stretched  his  hand  out. 

Lord  Romfrey  closed  his  own  on  it. 

The  antagonists,  between  whom  was  no  pretence  of  their 
being  other  after  the  performance  of  a  creditable  ceremony, 
bowed  and  exchanged  civil  remarks  :  and  then  Lord  Rom- 
frey was  invited  to  go  into  the  house  and  see  Beauchamp, 
who  happened  to  be  sitting  with  Cecilia  Halkett  and  Jenny 
Denliam.  Beauchamp  was  thin,  pale  and  quiet;  but  the 
sight  of  him  standing  and  conversing  after  that  scene  of  the 
Bkinny  creature  struggling  with  bare-ribbed  obstruction  on 
thr'  bed,  was  an  example  of  constitutional  vigour  and  a  com- 
pliment to  the  family  very  gi^atifyiug  to   Lord   Romfrey. 


480 

Excepting"  by  Cecilia,  the  earl  was  coldly  received.  He  liad 
to  leave  early  by  special  express  for  London  to  catch  the 
last  train  to  Romfrey.  Beauchamp  declined  to  fix  a  day  for 
his  visit  to  the  castle  with  Lydiard,  but  proposed  that 
Lydiard  should  accompany  the  earl  on  his  return.  Lydiard 
was  called  in,  and  at  once  accepted  the  earl's  invitation,  and 
quitted  the  room  to  jDack  his  portmanteau. 

A  faint  sign  of  firm-shutting  shadowed  the  corners  of 
Jenny's  lips. 

"  You  have  brought  my  nephew  to  life,"  Lord  Romfrey 
said  to  her. 

"  My  share  in  it  was  very  small,  my  lord." 

"  Gannet  says  that  your  share  in  it  was  very  great." 

*'  And  I  say  so,  with  the  authority  of  a  witness,"  added 
Cecilia. 

"  And  I,  from  my  experience,"  came  from  Beauchamp. 

His  voice  had  a  hollow  sound,  unlike  his  natural  voice. 

The  earl  looked  at  him  remembering  the  bright  laughing 
lad  he  had  once  been,  and  said  :  "  Why  not  try  a  month  of 
Madeira  ?     You  have  only  to  step  on  board  the  boat." 

"  I  don't  want  to  lose  a  month  of  my  friend,"  said  Bean- 
champ. 

"  Take  your  friend  with  you.  After  these  fevers  our  Win- 
ters are  bad." 

"  I've  been  idle  too  long." 

"But,  Captain  Beauchamp,"  said  Jenny,  "yon  proposed 
to  do  nothing  but  read  for  a  couple  of  years." 

"  Ay,  there's  the  voyage !  "  sighed  he,  with  a  sailor- 
invalid's  vision  of  sunny  seas  dancing  in  the  far  sky.  "  You 
must  persuade  Dr.  Shrapnel  to  come  ;  and  he  will  not  come 
unless  you  come  too,  and  you  won't  go  anywhere  but  to  the 
Alps !" 

She  bent  her  eyes  on  the  floor.  Beauchamp  remembered 
what  had  brought  her  home  from  the  Alps.  He  cast  a  cold 
look  on  his  uncle  talking  with  Cecilia  :  granite,  as  he 
thought.  And  the  reflux  of  that  slight  feeling  of  despair 
seemed  to  tear  down  with  it  in  wreckage  every  eifort  he  had 
made  in  life,  and  cry  failure  on  him.  Yet  he  was  hoping 
that  he  had  not  been  created  for  failure. 

He  touched  his  uncle's  hand  indifferently  ;  "  My  love  to 
the  countess :  let  me  hear  of  her,  sir,  if  you  please." 

"  You  shall,"  said  the  earl.     "  But,  off  to  Madeira,  and  up 


TBE  APOLOGY  TO  DE.  SHKAPNEL.  481 

TenerifFe :  sail  the  Azores.  I'll  liii-e  you  a  good-sized 
schooner." 

"  There  is  the  Esperanza,^'  said  Cecilia.  "  And  the  vessel 
is  lying  idle,  T^evil !     Can  yon  allow  it  ?" 

He  consented  to  langh  at  himself,  and  fell  to  coughing. 

Jenny  Denham  saw  a  real  human  expression  of  anxietj 
cross  the  features  of  the  earl  at  the  sound  of  the  cough. 

Lord  Eomfrey  said  "Adieu  !"  to  her. 

He  offered  her  his  hand,  which  she  contrived  to  avoid 
taking  by  droiDping  a  formal  half-reverence. 

"  Think  of  the  Esperanza;  she  will  be  coasting  her  nominal 
native  land  !  and  adieu  for  to-day,"  Cecilia  said  to  Beau- 
champ. 

Jenny  Denham  and  he  stood  at  the  window  to  watch  the 
leave-taking  in  the  garden,  for  a  distraction.  They  inter- 
changed no  remark  of  surprise  at  seeing  the  earl  and  Dr. 
Shrapnel  hand-locked  :  but  Jenny's  heart  reproached  her 
uncle  for  being  actually  servile,  and  Beauchamp  accused  the 
earl  of  aristocratic  impudence. 

Both  were  overcome  with  remorse  when  Colonel  Halkett, 
putting  his  head  into  the  room  to  say  good-bye  to  Beauchamp 
and  place  the  Esperanza  at  his  disposal  for  a  Winter  cruise, 
chanced  to  mention  in  two  or  three  half  words  the  purpose 
of  the  earl's  visit,  and  what  had  occun?ed.  He  took  it  for 
known  already. 

To  Miss  Denham  he  remarked :  "  Lord  Romfrey  is  very 
much  concerned  about  your  health ;  he  fears  you  have  over- 
done it  in  nursirig  Captain  Beauchamp." 

"  I  must  be  off  after  him,"  said  Beauchamp,  and  began 
trembling  so  that  he  could  not  stir. 

The  colonel  knew  the  pain  and  shame  of  that  condition 
of  weakness  to  a  man  who  has  been  strong  and  swift,  and 
said  :  "  Seven-league  boots  are  not  to  be  caught.  You'll  see 
him  soon.  Why,  I  thought  some  letter  of  younE  had  fetched 
him  here  !     I  gave  you  all  the  credit  of  it." 

"  No,  he  deserves  it  all  him. self — all,"  said  Beauchamp  : 
and  with  a  dubious  eye  on  Jenny  Denham :  "  You  see,  we 
were  unfair." 

The  '  we  '  meant  '  you '  to  her  sensitiveness  ;  and  probably 
lie  did  mean  it  for  '  you  :'  for  as  he  would  have  felt,  so  he 
supposed  that  his  uncle  must  have  felt,  Jenny's  coldness  was 
much  the  crueller.     Her  features,  which  in  animation  were 

2i 


482  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

summer  light  playing  upon  smootli  ^Yater,  could  be  exceed- 
ingly cold  in  repose :  tlie  icier  to  those  who  knevr  her,  because 
they  never  expressed  disdain.  IS^o  expression  of  the  baser 
sort  belonged  to  them.  Beaucha7np  was  intimate  with  these 
delicately-cut  features  ;  he  would  have  shuddered  had  they 
chilled  on  him.  He  had  fallen  in  love  with  his  uncle  ;  he 
fancied  she  ought  to  have  done  so  too  ;  and  from  his  excess 
of  sympathy  he  found  her  deficient  in  it. 

He  sat  himself  down  to  write  a  hearty  letter  to  his  "dear 
old  uncle  Everard." 

Jenny  left  him,  to  go  to  her  chamber  and  cry. 


CHAPTER  Liy. 

THE  FRUITS  OF  THE  APOLOGY. 


Tf:s  clear  heart  had  cause  for  tears.  Her  just  indignation 
with  Lord  Romfrey  had  sustained  her  artificially  hitherto : 
now  that  it  was  erased,  she  sank  down  to  weep.  Her  sen- 
timents toward  Lydiard  had  been  very  like  Cecilia  Halketi's 
in  favour  of  Mr.  Austin  ;  with  something  more  to  warm  them 
on  the  part  of  the  gentleman.  He  first  had  led  her  mind  in 
the  direction  of  balanced  thought,  when,  despite  her  affection 
for  Dr.  Shrapnel,  her  timorous  maiden  wits,  unable  to  coil- 
tend  with  the  copious  exclamatory  old  politician,  opposed 
him  silently.  Lydiard  had  heljied  her  tongue  to  speak,  as 
well  as  her  mind  to  rational  views ;  and  there  had  been  a 
bond  of  union  in  common  for  thein  in  his  admiration  of  her 
father's  writings.  She  had  known  that  he  was  miserably 
yoked,  and  had.  respected  him  when  he  seemed  inclined  for 
compassion  without  wooing  her  for  tenderness.  He  had  not 
trifled  with  her,  hardly  flattered  ;  he  had  done  no  more  than 
kindle  a  young  girl's  imaginative  liking.  The  pale  flower 
of  imagination,  fed  by  dews,  not  by  sunshine,  v.as  born  droop- 
ing, and  hung  secret  in  her  bosom,  shy  as  a  bell  of  the  frail 
wood-sorrel.  Yet  there  was  pain  for  her  in  the  perishing 
of  a  thing  so  poor  and  lowly.  She  had  not  observed  the 
change  in  Lydiard  after  Beauchamp  came  on  the  scene :  and 
that  may  tell  us  how  passionlessly  pure  the  little  maidenly 
sentiment  was.  For  do  but  look  on  the  dewy  wood-sorrel 
flower;  it  is  not  violet  or  rose  inviting  hands  to  pluck  it; 


THE  FEUITS  OF  THE  APOLOGY.  483 

still  it  is  there,  happy  in  the  woods.  And  Jenny's  feeling 
Avas  that  a  foot  had  crushed  it. 

She  wept,  thinking  confusedly  of  Lord  Romfrey  ;  trying 
to  think  he  had  made  his  amends  tardi  \j,  and  that  Beau- 
champ  prized  him  too  highly  for  the  act.  She  had  no  longer 
anything  to  resent :  she  was  ob^.iged  to  weeii.  In  truth,  as  the 
earl  had  noticed,  she  was  physically  de])]cssed  by  the  strain 
of  her  proti-acted  watch  over  Beauchamp,  as  well  as  rather 
heartsick. 

But  she  had  been  of  aid  and  use  in  saving  him  !  She  was 
not  quite  a  valueless  person  ;  sweet,  too,  was  the  thought 
that  he  consulted  her,  listened  to  her,  weighed  her  ideas. 
He  had  evidently  taken  to  study  her,  as  if  di8|)ersing  some 
wonderment  that  one  of  her  sex  should  have  ideas.  He  had 
repeated  certain  of  her  own  which  had  been  forgo'^ten  by 
her.  His  eyes  were  often  on  her  with  this  that  she  tL  ught 
humorous  intentness.  She  smiled.  She  had  assiste^c^  in 
raising  him  from  his  bed  of  sickness,  whereof  the  memory 
affrighted  her  and  melted  her.  The  difficulty  now  was  to 
keep  him  indoors,  and  why  he  would  not  go  even  temporarily 
to  a  laro-e  house  like  Mount  Laurels,  whither  Colonel  Halkett 
was  daily  requestino-  him  to  go,  she  was  unable  to  compre- 
hend.    His  love  of  Dr.  Shra^Dnel  might  account  for  it. 

"  Own,  Jenny,"  said  Beauchamp,  springing  up  to  meet  her 
as  she  entered  the  room  where  he  and  Dr.  Shra[)nel  sat  dis- 
cussing Lord  Romfrey's  bearing  at  his  visit,  "  own  that  my 
uncle  Everard  is  a  true  nobleman.  He  has  to  make  the 
round  to  the  right  mark,  but  he  comes  to  it.  I  could  not 
move  him — nnd  I  like  him  the  better  for  that.  He  woiked 
round  to  it  himself.  I  ought  to  have  been  sure  he  would. 
You're  right :  I  break  my  head  with  impatience." 

"  1^0  ;  you  sowed  seed,"  said  Dr.  Shrapnel.  "  Heed  not 
that  girl,  my  Beauchamp.  The  old  woman's  in  the  Tory, 
and  the  Tory  leads  the  young  maid.  Here's  a  fable  I  draw 
from  a  IS'atura list's  book,  and  we'll  set  it  against  the  dicta  of 
Jenny  Donothing,  Jenny  Discretion,  Jenny  Wait-f or- the- 
Gods  : — Once  upon  a  [time  in  a  tropical  island  a  man  lay 
sick  ;  so  ill  that  he  could  not  rise  to  trouble  his  neighbours 
for  help  ;  so  weak  that  it  was  lifting  a  mountain  to  get  up 
from  his  bed ;  so  hopeless  of  succour  that  the  last  spark  of 
distraught  wisdom  perching  on  his  brains  advised  him  to  lie 
where  he  was  and  trouble  not  himself,  since  peace  at  leasi 

2i2 


484  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

he  could  command,  before  lie  passed  upon  the  black  high- 
road men  call  our  kingdom  of  peace  :  ay,  he  lay  there.  Now 
it  chanced  that  this  man  had  a  mess  to  cook  for  his  nourish- 
ment. And  life  said.  Do  it,  and  death  said,  To  what  end  ? 
He  wrestled  with  the  stark  limbs  of  death,  and  cooked  the 
mess  ;  and  that  done  he  had  no  strength  remaining  to  him 
to  consume  it,  but  crept  to  his  bed  like  the  toad  into  winter. 
Now,  meanwhile  a  steam  arose  from  the  mess,  and  he  lay 
stretched.  So  it  befel  that  the  birds  of  prey  of  the  region 
scented  the  mess,  and  they  descended  and  thronged  at  th;it 
man's  Avindows.  And  the  man's  neighbours  looked  up  at 
them,  for  it  was  the  sign  of  one  who  is  fit  for  tlic  beaks  of 
birds,  lying  unburied.  Fail  to  spread  the  pall  one  hour 
where  suns  are  decisive,  and  the  pall  comes  down  out  of 
heaven  !  They  said.  The  man  is  dead  within.  And  they 
went  to  his  room,  and  saw  him  and  succoured  him.  They 
lifted  him  out  of  death  by  the  last  uncut  thread. 

"  Now,  my  Jenny  Weigh-words,  Jenny  Halt-there!  was  it 
they  who  saved  the  man,  or  he  that  saved  himself  ?  Tlic 
man  taxed  his  expiring  breath  to  sow  seed  of  life.  Lydiard 
shall  put  it  into  verse  for  a  fable  in  song  for  our  people.  I 
say  it  is  a  good  fable,  and  sung  spiritedly  may  serve  for 
nourishment,  and  faith  in  work,  to  many  of  our  poor  fainting 
fellows  !     Now  you  ?" 

Jenny  said  :  "  I  think  it  is  a  good  fable  of  self-help.  Does 
it  quite  illustrate  the  case  ?  I  mean,  the  virtue  of  impatience. 
But  I  like  the  fable  and  the  moral ;  and  I  think  it  would  do 
good  if  it  were  m.ade  popular,  though  it  would  be  hard  to 
condense  it  to  a  song." 

"  It  would  be  hard  !  ay,  then  we  do  it  forthwith.  And 
you  shall  compose  the  music.  As  for  the  'case  of  im- 
patience,'my  dear,  you  tether  the  soaring  universal  to  your 
pet-lamb's  post,  the  special.  I  spoke  of  seed  sown.  I  spoke 
of  the  fruits  of  energy  and  resolution.  Cared  I  for  an 
apology  ?  I  took  the  blows  as  I  take  hail  from  the  clouds — 
which  apologize  to  you  the  moment  you  are  in  shelter,  if  you 
laugh  at  them.  So,  good  night  to  that  matter  !  Are  we  to 
have  rain  this  evening  ?  I  must  away  into  Bevisham  to  the 
Workmen's  Hall,  and  pay  the  men." 

"  There  will  not  be  rain ;  there  will  be  frost,  and  you  must 
be  well  wrapped  if  you  must  go,"  said  Jenny.  "  And  tell 
them  not  to  think  of  deputations  to  Captain  Beauchamp  yet." 


TTTE  FRUITS  OF  THE  ArOLOaT£AUF0RH\^^^485 

"No,  no  deputations;  let  them  send  Killick,  if  tliey  ^.vanf 
to  say  anytliino","  said  Beauchamp. 

"  Wrong  !"  the  doctor  cried  !  "  wrong  !  Ma^ong  !  Six  men 
won"t  hurt  you  more  than  one.  And  why  check  them  when 
ihcir  feelings  are  up?  They  burn  to  be  speaking  some 
words  to  you.  Trust  me,  Beauchamp,  if  we  shun  to  encounter 
the  good  warm  soul  of  numbers,  our  hearts  are  narrowed  to 
iliem.  The  business  of  our  modern  world  is  to  open  heart 
and  stretch  out  arms  to  numbers.  In  numbers  we  have  our 
sinews;  they  are  our  iron  and  gold.  Scatter  them  not; 
teach  them  the  secret  of  cohesion.  Practically,  since  they 
gave  you  not  their  entire  confidence  once,  you  should  not 
relniff  them  to  suspicions  of  you  as  aristocrat,  when  they 
rise  on  the  effort  to  believe  a  man  of,  as  'tis  called,  birth 
th(nr  undivided  friend.     Meet  them  !" 

"Send  them,"  said  Beauchamp. 

Jenny  Denham  fastened  a  vast  cloak  and  a  comforter  on 
the  doctor's  heedless  shoulders  and  thi^oat,  enjoining  on  him 
to  return  in  good  time  for  dinner. 

He  put  his  finger  to  her  cheek  in  reproof  of  such  super- 
erogatory counsel  to  a  man  famous  for  his  punctuality. 

The  day  had  darkened. 

Beauchamp  begged  Jenny  to  play  to  him  on  the  piano. 

"  Do  you  indeed  care  to  have  music  ?"  said  she.  "  T  did 
not  wish  you  to  meet  a  deputation,  because  your  strength  is 
not  yet  equal  to  it.  Dr.  Shrapnel  dwells  on  principles,  for- 
getful of  minor  considerations." 

"  I  wish  thousands  did  '."cried  Beauchamp.  "  When  you 
play  I  seem  to  hear  ideas.     Your  music  makes  me  think," 

Jenny  lit  a  pair  of  candles  and  set  them  on  the  piano. 
"  Waltzes  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Call  in  a  puppet-show  at  once !" 

She  smiled,  turned  over  some  leaves,  and  struck  the  open- 
ing notes  of  the  Xinth  Symphony  of  Beethoven. 

A1  the  finish  he  said:  "Xow  read  me  your  father's  poem, 
'  The  Hunt  of  the  Fates.'  " 

She  read  it  to  him. 

"  N'ow  read,  '  The  Ascent  from  the  Inferno.'* " 
That  she  read :  and  also  "  Soul  and  Brute,^^  another  of  his 
favoui'ites. 

He  wanted  more,  and  told  her  to  read  "  First  Love — Last 
Lover 


486  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAKEER. 

"I  fear  I  have  not  the  tone  of  voice  for  love-pooms," 
Jenny  said,  returning  the  book  to  him. 

"  I'll  read  it,"  said  he. 

He  read  with  more  imprcssiveness  than  effect.  Lydiard's 
I'eading  thrilled  her :  Beauchamp's  insisted  too  much  on 
particular  lines.  But  it  was  worth  while  observing  him. 
She  saw  him  always  as  in  a  picture,  remote  from  herself. 
His  loftier  social  station  and  strarge  character  pi-ecluded 
any  of  those  keen  suspicious  by  which  women  learn  that  a 
fire  is  beginning  to  glow  near  them. 

"  How  I  should  like  to  have  known  your  father  !"  he  said. 
"  I  don't  wonder  at  Dr.  Shrapnel's  love  of  him.  Yes,  he  was 
one  of  the  gi-eat  men  of  his  day  !  and  it's  a  higher  honour  to 
be  of  his  blood  than  any  that  rank  can  give.  You  were  ten 
years  old  when  you  lost  him.     Describe  him  to  me.'' 

"He  used  to  phiy  with  me  like  a  boy,"  said  Jenny.  She 
described  her  father  from  a  child's  recollection  of  him. 

"  Dr.  Shrapnel  declares  he  would  have  been  one  of  the 
first  surgeons  in  Europe  :  and  he  was  one  of  the  first  of 
poets,"  Beauchamp  pursued  with  enthusiasm.  "  So  he  was 
doubly  gi'eat.  I  hold  a  good  surireon  to  be  in  the  front  rank 
of  public  benefactors — where  they  put  rich  brewers,  bankers, 
and  speculative  manufacturers  now.  AVell !  the  world  is 
young.  We  shall  alter  that  in  time.  Whom  did  your  father 
marry  ?" 

Jenny  answered,  "  My  molhei-  was  the  daughter  of  a 
London  lawyer.  She  married  wit  hout  her  father's  approval 
of  the  match,  and  he  left  her  nothing.' 

Beauchamp  interjected  :  "  Law^-er's  money  !" 

"  It  would  have  been  useful  to  my  mother's  honseliold 
when  I  was  an  infant,"  said  Jenny. 

"  Poor  soul !  I  suppose  so.  Yes  ;  well,"  Beauchamp 
sighed.  "  Money!  never  mind  how  it  comes.  We're  in  such 
a  primitive  condition  that  we  catch  at  anything  to  keep  us 
out  of  the  cold; — dogs  with  a  bone! — instead  of  living,  as 
Dr.  Shrapnel  prophecies,  for  and  with  one  another.  ^It's  war 
now,  and  luoney's  the  weapon  of  war.  And  we're  the  worst 
nation  in  Europe  for  that.  But  if  we  fairly  recognize  it,  we 
shall  be  the  first  to  alter  our  ways.  There's  the  point.  Well, 
Jenny,  I  can  look  you  in  the  face  to-night.  Thanks  to  my 
uncle  Everard  at  last  I" 

"  Captain  Beauchamp,  you  have  never  been  blamed." 


THE  FRUITS  OF  THE  Al  OLOGT.  487 

"I  am  Ca])tain  Beaucliamp  hj  courtesy,  in  public.  Mj 
friends  call  me  iSTevil.  I  think  I  have  heard  the  name  on 
your  lips  ?"' 

"  When  you  were  very  ill." 

He  stood  closer  to  her,  very  close. 

"  Which  was  the  arm  that  bled  for  me  ?  May  I  look  at 
it  ?     There  w^as  a  bruise." 

"  Have  yon  not  forgotten  that  trifle  ?  There  is  the 
faintest  possible  mark  of  it  left." 

"  I  wish  to  see." 

She  gently  defended  the  arm,  but  he  made  it  so  much  a 
matter  of  earnest  to  seethe  bruise  of  the  old  Election  missile 
on  her  fair  arm,  that,  with  a  pardonable  soft  blush,  to  avoid 
making  much  of  it  herself,  she  turned  her  sleeve  a  little 
above  the  wrist.     He  took  her  hand. 

"It  was  for  me  !" 

"  It  was  quite  an  accident :  no  harm  was  intended." 

"  But  it  Avas  in  inj  cause — for  me  !" 

"  Indeed,  Captain  Beauchamp  .  .  .  ." 

"  Kevil,  we  say  indoors." 

"  Nevil — but  is  it  not  wiser  to  say  what  comes  naturally 
to  us  ?" 

•'  Who  told  you  to-day  that  you  had  brought  me  to  life  ? 
I  am  here — to  prove  it  true.  If  I  had  paid  attention  to 
your  advice,  I  should  not  have  g(me  into  the  cottage  of  those 
poor  creatures  and  taken  away  the  fever.  I  did  no  good 
there.  But  the  man's  wife  said  her  husband  had  been 
ruined  by  voting  for  me :  and  it  was  a  point  of  honour  to  go 
in  and  sit  with  him.  You  are  not  to  have  your  hand  back  : 
it  is  mine.  Don't  you  remember,  Jenny,  how  you  gave  me 
your  arm  on  the  road  when  I  staggered,  two  days  before 
the  fever  knocked  me  over  ?  Shall  I  tell  you  what  I 
thought  then  ?  I  thought  that  he  who  could  have  you  for 
a  mate  would  have  the  bravest  and  helpfullest  wife  in  all 
England.  And  not  a  mere  beauty,  for  you  have  good  looks : 
but  you  have  the  qualities  I  have  been  in  search  of.  Why 
do  your  eyes  look  so  mournfully  at  me  ?  I  am  full  of  hope. 
We'll  sail  the  Esperanza  for  the  Winter  ;  you  and  I,  and  our 
best  friend  with  us.  And  you  shall  have  a  voice  in  the 
council,  be  sure." 

"  If  you  are  two  to  one  ?"  Jenny  said  quickly,  to  keep 
from  faltering. 


488  BEAUCFAMP'S  CAREER. 

Beanctainp  pressed  liis  mouth  to  tlie  mark  of  tTie  bruise 
on  lier  arm.     He  held  her  fast. 

"I  m.ean  it,  if  you  will  join  me,  that  you  and  I  shouhi 
rejoice  the  heart  of  the  dear  old  man — will  you  ?  He  has 
been  brooding  over  your  loneliness  here  if  you  are  unmar- 
ried, ever  since  his  recovery.  I  owe  my  liFe  to  you,  and 
every  debt  of  gratitude  to  him.     ISTow,  Jenny  !" 

"  Oh  !  Captain  Beauchamp — Nevil,  if  you  will  ....  if  I 
may  have  my  hand.  You  exaggerate  common  kindness. 
He  loves  you.     We  both  esteem  you." 

"  But  you  don't  love  me  r"' 

"  Indeed  I  have  no  fear  that  I  shall  be  unable  to  support 
myself,  if  I  am  left  alone." 

"  But  I  want  your  help.  I  wake  froiisa  illness  with  my 
eyes  open.  I  must  have  your  arm  to  lean  on  now  and 
then." 

Jenny  dropped  a  shivering  sigh. 

"  Uncle  is  long  absent !"  she  said. 

Her  hand  was  released.     Beauchamp  inspected  his  watch. 

"  He  may  have  fallen  !     He  may  be   lying  on  the   com- 


mon 


"  Oh!"  cried  Jenny,  "  wliv  did  I  let  him  go  out  without 
me  ?" 

"Let  me  have  his  lantern;  I'll  go  and  search  over  the 
common." 

"You  must  not  go  out,"  said  she. 

"I  must.     The  old  man  may  be  perishing." 

*'It  will  be  death  to  you  ....   Xevil  I"  ' 

*'  That's  foolish.     I  can  stand  the  air  for  a  few  minutes." 

"  I'll  go,"  said  Jenny. 

"  Unprotected  ?     No." 

"  Cook  shall  come  with  me." 

"Two  women  !" 

"  Nevil,  if  you  care  a  little  for  me,  be  good,  be  kind, 
Bubniit." 

"  He  is  half  an  hour  behind  dinner-time,  and  he's  never 
late.  Something  must  have  happened  to  him.  Way  for 
me,  my  dear  girl." 

She  stood  firm  between  him  and  the  door.  It  came  to 
pass  that  she  stretched  her  hands  to  arrest  him,  and  he 
seized  the  hands. 

"Rather   than  you   should  go  out  in    this   cold  weather, 


WITHOUT  LOVE.  48  D 

Fxiyfching  !*'  she  said,  in  tlie  desperation  of  physical  inability 
to  hold  liim  back. 

"  Ah  !"  Beaucliamp  crossed  his  arms  round  her.  "  I'll 
wait  for  five  minutes.' 

One  went  by,  with  Jenny  folded,  broken  and  sobbing-, 
senseless,  against  his  breast. 

They  had  not  heard  Dr.  Shrapnel  quietly  opening  the 
hall  door  and  hanging  up  his  hat.     He  looked  in. 

"  Beauchamp  I"'  he  exclaimed. 

"  Come,  doctor,"  said  Beauchamp,  and  loosened  his  clasp 
of  Jenny  considerately. 

She  disengaged  herself. 

"  Beauchamp  !  now  I  die  a  glad  man.'* 

"  Witness,  doctor,  she's  mine  by  her  own  confession." 

"  Uncle  !"  Jenny  gasped.  "  Oh  !  Captain  Beauchamp, 
what  an  error  !  what  delusion  !  .  .  .  .  Forget  it.  I  will. 
Here  are  more  misunderstandings  !  You  shall  be  excused. 
But  be  .  .  .  ." 

"  Be  you  the  blessedest  woman  alive  on  this  earth,  my 
Jenny!"  shouted  Dr.  Shrapnel.  "You  have  the  choice 
man  on  all  the  earth  for  husband,  sweetheart !  Ay,  of  all 
the  earth  !  I  go  with  a  message  for  my  old  friend  Harry 
Denliam,  to  quicken  him  in  the  grave;  for  the  husband  of 
his  gir]  is  Nevil  Beauchamp  !  The  one  thing  I  dared  not 
dream  of  thousands  is  established.     Sunlight,  my  Jenny !" 

Beauchamp  kissed  her  hand. 

She  slipped  away  to  her  chamber,  grovelling  to  find  her 
diminished  self  somewhere  in  the  mid-thunder  of  her  amaze- 
ment, as  though  it  were  to  discover  a  pin  on  the  floor  by 
the  flash  of  lightning.     Where  wa?  :,':e! 

This  ensued  from  the  apology  of  Lord  K-omfrey  to  Dr. 
Shrapnel. 


CHAPTEB  LV. 

WITHOUT  LOVE. 


At  the  end  of  !N"ovember,  Jenny  Denham  wrote  these  lineg 
to    Mr.   Lydiard,   in   reply  to   his    request   that   she   should 


490 

furnish  the  latest  particulars  of  Nevil  Beaucliamp,  for  tm 
satisfaction  of  the  Countess  of  Romfrey: — 

"  There  is  everything  to  reassure  Lady  Ronifrey  in  the 
state  of  Captain  Beauchamp's  health,  and  I  have  never  seen 
him  so  placidly  happy  as  he  has  been  since  the  arrival,  yes- 
terday morning,  of  a  lady  from  France,  Madame  la  Marquise 
de  E^ouaillout,  with  her  brother^  M.  le  Comte  de  Croisnel. 
Her  husband,  I  hear  from  M.  de  Croisnel,  dreads  our 
climate  and  cofFee  too  much  to  attempt  the  voyage.  I  under- 
stand that  she  writes  to  Lady  Romfrey  to-day.  Lady  Rom- 
frey's  letter  to  her,  informing  her  of  Captain  Beauchamp's 
alarming  illness,  went  the  round  from  Noi'mandy  to  Touraine 
and  Dauphiny,  otherwise  she  would  have  come  over  earlier. 

"  Her  first  inquiry  of  me  was,  '  II  est  mort  ?  '  You  w^ould 
have  supposed  her  disappointed  by  my  answ^er.  A  light 
went  out  in  her  eyes,  like  that  of  a  veilleuse  in  the  dawn. 
She  looked  at  me  without  speaking,  while  her  beautiful  eye" 
regained  their  natural  expression.  She  shut  them  an( 
sighed.  '  Tell  him  tliat  M.  de  Croisnel  and  his  sister  arr 
here.' 

"  This  morning  her  wish  to  see  Miss  Halkett  was  grati- 
fied. You  know  my  taste  was  formed  in  France  ;  I  agree 
with  Captain  Beauchamp  in  his  more  than  admiration  of 
"^  Frenchwomen  ;  ours,  though  more  accomplished,  are  colder 
and  less  plastic.  But  Miss  Halkett  is  surpassingly  beautiful, 
very  amiable,  very  generous,  a  pei-fect  friend.  She  is  our 
country  at  its  best.  Probably  she  is  shy  of  speaking 
French  ;  she  frequently  puts  the  Italian  accent.  Madame 
de  Rouaillout  begged  to  speak  with  her  alone :  I  do  not 
know  what  passed.     Miss  Halkett  did  not  return  to  us. 

"  Dr.    Shrapnel  and   Captain   Beauchamp    have   recently 
been  speculating  on  our  becoming  a  nation  of  artists,  and 
^'authorities  in  science  and  philosophy,  by  the  time  our  coal- 
fields  and  material  wealth  are  exhausted.      That,  and  the 
cataclysm,  are  their  themes. 

"  They  say,  will  things  end  utterly  ? — all  our  gains  be 
lost  ?  The  question  seems  to  me  to  come  of  that  love  of 
earth  which  is  recognition  of  God :  for  if  tlicv  cannot  recon- 
cile themselves  to  believe  in  extinction,  to  what  must  they 
be  looking  ?  It  is  a  confirmation  of  your  saying,  that  love 
leads  to  God.  through  art  or  in  acts. 


WITHOUT  LOVE.  491 

"Ton  Tvill  regret  to  hear  that  the  project  of  Captain 
Beaiicharap's  voyage  is  in  danger  of  being  abandoned.  A 
committee  of  a  vacant  Radical  borongh  has  oiJered  to 
nominate  him.  My  influence  is  weak ;  madame  would  have 
him  go  back  with  her  and  her  brother  to  Xormandy.  My 
influence  is  weak,  I  suppose,  because  he  finds  me  constantly 
leaning  to  expediency — I  am  your  pupil.  It  may  be  quite 
correct  that  powder  is  intended  for  explosion  :  we  do  not 
therefore  apply  a  spark  to  the  barrel.  I  ventured  on  that. 
He  pitied  me  in  the  snares  of  simile  and  metaphor.  He  is  the 
Fame,  you  perceive.  How  often  have  we  not  discussed  what 
would  have  become  of  him,  with  that  '  rocket-brain  '  of  his, 
in  less  quiet  times  !  Yet,  when  he  was  addressing  a  deputa, 
tion  of  workmen  the  other  day,  he  recommended  patience  to 
them  as  one  of  the  virtues  that  count  under  wisdom.  He  is 
curiously  impatient  for  knowledge.  One  of  his  reasons  for 
not  accepting  Colonel  Halkett's  offer  of  his  yacht  is,  that  he 
pill  not  be  able  to  have  books  enough  on  board.  Definite 
instead  of  vast  and  hazy  duties  are  to  be  desired  for  him,  I 
fhink.  Most  fervently  I  pray  that  he  will  obtain  a  ship  and 
serve  some  years.  At  the  risk  of  your  accusing  me  of  '  sen- 
tentious posing,'  I  would  say,  that  men  who  do  'not  live  in 
the  present  chiefly,  but  hamper  themselves  with  giant  tasks 
in  excess  of  alarm  for  the  future,  however  devoted  and  noble 
they  may  be — and  he  is  an  example  of  one  that  is — reduce 
themselves  to  the  dimensions  of  pigmies  ;  they  have  the  cry 
of  infants.  Tou  reply,  Foresight  is  an  element  of  love  of 
country  and  mankind.  But  how  often  is  not  the  foresight 
guess-work  ? 

"  He  has  not  spoken  of^the  Dawn  project.  To-day  he  is 
repeating  one  of  uncle's  novelties — '  Sultry  Tories.'  The 
sultry  Tory  sits  in  the  sun  and  prophecies  woefully  of  storm, 
it  appears.  Your  accusation  that  I  am  one  at  heart  amuses 
me;  I  am  not  quite  able  to  deny  it.  '  Sultriness  '  I  am  not 
conscious  of.  But  it  would  appear  to  be  an  epithet  for  the 
(Conservatives  of  wealth.  So  that  England,  being  very 
^^  ealth}^  we  are  to  call  it  a  sultry  country  ?  You  are  mucli 
wanted,  for  w^here  there  is  no  '  middleman  Liberal  '  to 
hold  the  scales  for  them,  these  two  have  it  all  their  own 
way,  which  is  not  good  for  them.  Captain  Beauchamp 
quotes  you  too.  It  seems  that  you  once  talked  to  him  of  a 
machine  for  measuring  the  force  of  blows  delivered  wi!h  the 


y 


492 

fist,  and  compared  his  efforts  to  those  of  one  perpetually 
practising  at  it :  and  this  you  are  said  to  have  called — '  The 
case  of  the  Constitutional  Realm  and  the  extreme  Radical.' 
Elsewhere  the  Radical  smites  at  iron  or  rotten  wood ;  in 
England  it  is  a  cushion  on  springs.  Did  you  say  it  ?  He 
quotes  it  as  yours,  half  acquiescingly,  and  ruefully. 

"  For  visitors,  we  have  had  Captain  Baskelett  for  two 
minutes,  and  Lord  Palmet,  who  stayed  longer,  and  seems  to 
intend  to  come  daily.  He  attempts  French  with  Madame 
de  R.,  and  amuses  her  a  little :  a  silver  foot  and  a  ball  of 
worsted.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grancy  Lespel  have  called,  and 
Lord  and  Lady  Croyston.  Colonel  Halkett,  Miss  Halkett, 
and  Mr.  Tuckham  come  frequently.  Captain  Beauchamp 
spoke  to  her  yesterday  of  her  marriage. 

"  Madame  de  R.  leaves  us  to-morrow.  Her  brother  is  a 
delightful,  gay-tempered,  very  handsome  boyish  Frenchman 
— not  her  equal,  to  my  mind,  for  1  do  not  think  Frenchmen 
comparable  to  the  women  of  France ;  but  she  is  exceedingly 
grave,  with  hardly  a  smile,  and  his  high  spirits  excite  Nevil's, 
so  it  is  pleasant  to  see  them  together." 


The  letter  was  handed  to  Lady  Romfrey.  She  read 
through  it  thoughtfully  till  she  came  to  the  name  of  Nevil, 
when  she  frowned.  On  the  morrow  she  pronounced  it  a 
disingenuous  letter.     Renee  had  sent  her  these  lines  : — 


'j^' 


"  I  should  come  to  you  if  my  time  were  not  restricted ; 
my  brother's  leave  of  absence  is  short.  I  have  done  here 
what  lay  in  my  power,  to  show  you  I  have  learnt  something 
in  the  school  of  self-immolation.  I  have  seen  Mdlle.  Halkett. 
She  is  a  beautiful  young  woman,  deficient  only  in  words, 
doubtless.  My  labour,  except  that  it  may  satisfy  you,  was 
the  vainest  of  tasks.  She  marries  a  ruddy  monsieur  of  a 
name  that  I  forget,  and  of  the  bearing  of  a  member  of  the 
gardes  du  corps,  without  the  stature.  Enfin,  madame,  I 
have  done  my  duty,  and  do  not  i-egret  it,  since  I  may  hope 
that  it  will  win  for  me  some  approbation  and  a  portion  of 
the  esteem  of  a  lady  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  that  which 
is  now  the  best  of  life  to  me  :  and  I  do  not  undervalue  it  in 
saying  I  would  gladly  have  it  stamped  on  brass  and  deposited 
beside  my  father's.  I  have  my  faith.  I  would  it  were 
Nevil's  too — and  yours,  should  you  be  in  need  of  it. 


WITHOUT  LOVE.  493 

"  He  will  marry  Mdlle.  Denham.  If  I  may  foretell  events, 
she  will  steady  him.  She  is  a  young  person  who  will  not 
feel  astray  in  society  of  his  rank ;  she  possesses  the  natni-al 
ij-race  we  do  not  expect  to  see  out  of  onr  country — from  sheer 
i^-norance  of  what  is  beyond  it.  For  the  moment  she  affects 
to  consider  herself  unworthy ;  and  it  is  excusable  that  she 
should  be  slightly  alarmed  at  her  prospect.  ButlSTevil  must 
have  a  wife.  I  presume  to  think  that  he  could  not  have 
chosen  better.  Above  all,  make  him  leave  England  for  the 
Winter.  Adieu,  dear  countess.  Nevil  promises  me  a  visit 
after  his  marriage.  I  shall  not  set  foot  on  England  again : 
but  you,  should  you  ever  come  to  our  land  of  France,  will 
find  my  heart  open  to  you  at  the  gates  of  undying  grateful 
recollection.  I  am  not  skilled  in  writing.  You  have  looked 
into  me  once ;  look  now^ ;  I  am  the  same.  Only  I  have  suc- 
ceeded in  bringing  myself  to  a  greater  likeness  to  the  dead, 
as  it  becomes  a  creature  to  be  who  is  coupled  with  one  of 
their  body.  Meanwhile  I  shall  have  news  of  you.  I  trust 
that  soon  I  may  be  warranted  in  forwarding  congratulations 
to  Lord  Romfrey." 

Rosamund  handed  the  letters  to  her  husband.  N^ot  only 
did  she  think  Miss  Denham  disingenuous,  she  saw  that  the 
girl  was  not  in  love  with  Beauchamp  :  and  the  idea  of  a 
loveless  marriage  for  him  threw^  the  mournfullest  of  Hecate's 
beams  along  the  course  of  a  career  that  the  passionate  love 
of  a  bride,  though  she  were  not  well-born  and  not  wealthy, 
would  have  rosily  coloured. 

"  Without  love  !"  she  exclaimed  to  herself.  She  asked 
the  earl's  opinion  of  the  startling  intelligence,  and  of  the 
character  of  that  Miss  Denham,  who  could  pen  such  a  letter, 
after  engaging  to  give  her  hand  to  ISTevil. 

Lord  Romfrey  laughed  in  his  dumb  w^ay.  "  If  N"evil 
must  have  a  wife— and  the  marquise  tells  you  so,  and  she 
ought  to  know — he  may  as  well  marry  a  girl  who  w^on't 
go  all  the  way  down  hill  with  him  at  his  pace.  He'll  be 
cogged." 

"  You  do  not  object  to  such  an  alliance  ?" 

"  I'm  past  objection.  There's  no  law  against  a  man's 
marrying  his  nurse." 

"  But  she  is  not  even  in  love  with  him !" 

"  I  dare  say  not.     He  wants  a  wife :  she  accepts  a  hus. 


494 

band.  The  two  women  who  were  in  love  with  him  he 
wouldn't  have." 

Ladj  Romfrey  sighed  deeply:  "  He  has  lost  Cecilia  !  She 
might  still  have  been  his  :  but  he  has  taken  to  that  girl.  And 
Madame  de  Rouaillout  praises  the  girl  because — oh!  1  see  it 
— she  has  less  to  be  jealous  of  in  Miss  Denham :  of  whose 
birth  and  blood  we  know  nothing.  Let  that  pass.  If  only 
she  loved  him  !  I  cannot  endure  the  thought  of  his  marry- 
ing a  girl  who  is  not  in  love  with  him." 

"  Just  as  you  like,  my  dear." 

"  I  used  to  suspect  Mr.  Lydiard." 

"  Perhaps  he's  the  man." 

"  Oh,  what  an  end  of  so  brilliant  a  beginning!" 

"It  strikes  me,  my  dear,"  said  the  earl,  "it's  the  proper 
common  sense  beginning  that  may  have  a  fairish  end." 

"  JSTo,  but  what  I  feel  is  that  he — our  Nevil ! — has  accom- 
plished hardly  anything,  if  anything !" 

"  He  hasn't  marched  on  London  with  a  couple  of  hundred 
thousand  men :  no,  he  hasn't  done  that,"  the  earl  said, 
glancing  back  in  his  mind  through  Beauchamp's  career. 
"  And  he  escapes  what  Stukely  calls  his  nation's  scourge,  in 
the  shape  of  a  statue  turned  out  by  an  English  chisel.  No  : 
we  haven't  had  much  public  excitement  out  of  him.  But 
one  thing  he  did  do  :  he  got  me  down  on  my  knees  .'" 

Lord  Romfrey  pronounced  these  words  with  a  sober  em- 
phasis that  struck  the  humour  of  it  sharply  into  Rosamund's 
heart,  through  some  contrast  it  presented  betvv(  en  Nevil's 
aim  at  the  world  and  hit  of  a  man  :  the  immense  deal  thought 
of  it  by  the  earl,  and  the  very  little  that  Xevil  would  think 
of  it — the  great  domestic  achievement  to  be  boasted  of  by  an 
enthusiastic  devotee  of  politics  ! 

She  embraced  her  husband  with  peals  of  loving  laughter: 
the  last  laughter  heard  in  Romfrey  Castle  for  many  a  day. 


CHAPTER  LVL 


THE  LAST  OF  NEVIL  BEAUCHAMP. 


ITOT  before  Beauchamp  was  flying  with  the  Winter  gales  to 
warmer  climes  could  Rosamund  reflect  on  his  careei-    un- 


THE  LAST  OF  NEYIL  BfilAUCHAMP.  495 

shadowed  by  Iter  feminine  mortification  at  the  thought  that 
he  was  unloved  by  the  girl  he  had  decided  to  marry.  But 
when  he  was  away  and  winds  blew,  the  clouds  which  obscured 
an  embracing  imagination  of  him — such  as,  to  be  true  and 
full  and  sufficient,  should  stretch  like  the  dome  of  heaven 
over  the  humblest  of  lives  under  contemplation — broke,  and 
revealed  him  to  her  as  one  who  had  other  than  failed : 
rather  as  one  in  mid  career,  in  mid  forest,  who,  by  force  of 
character,  advancing  in  self-conquest,  strikes  his  impress 
right  and  left  around  him,  because  of  his  aim  at  stars.  He 
had  faults,  and  she  gloried  to  think  he  had  ;  for  the  woman's 
heart  rejoiced  in  his  portion  of  our  common  humanity  while 
she  named  their  prince  to  men  :  but  where  was  he  to  be 
matched  in  devotedness  and  in  gallantry  ?  and  what  man  of 
blood  fiery  as  Nevil's  ever  fought  so  to  subject  it  ?  Rosa- 
mund followed  him  like  a  migratory  bird,  hovered  over  his 
vessel,  perched  on  deck  beside  the  helm,  where  he^^  sailor 
was  sure  to  be  stationed,  entered  his  breast,  communed  with 
him,  and  wound  him  round  and  round  with  her  love.  He 
has  mine!  she  cried.  Her  craving  that  he  should  be  blest 
in  the  reward,  or  flower-crown,  of  his  wife's  love  of  him  les- 
sened in  proportion  as  her  brooding  spirit  vividly  realized 
his  deeds.  In  fact  it  had  been  but  an  example  of  our  very 
general  craving  for  a  climax,  palpable  and  scenic.  She  was 
completely  satisfied  by  her  conviction  that  his  wife  would 
respect  and  must  be  subordinate  to  him.  So  it  had  been 
with  her.  As  for  love,  let  him  come  to  his  Rosamund  for 
love,  and  appreciation,  adoration ! 

Rosamund  drew  nigh  to  her  hour  of  peiil  with  this  torch 
of  her  love  of  Beauchamp  to  illuminate  her. 

There  had  been  a  difiiculty  in  getting  him  to  go.  One  day 
Cecilia  walked  down  to  Dr.  Shrapnel's  with  Mr.  Tuckham, 
to  communicate  that  the  E-^peranza  awaited  Captain  Beau- 
champ,  manned  and  provisioned,  off  the  pier.  ISTow,  he  would 
not  go  without  Dr.  Shrapnel,  nor  the  doctor  without  Jenny ; 
and  Jenny  could  not  hold  back,  seeing  that  the  wish  of  her 
heart  was  for  Nevil  to  be  at  sea,  untroubled  by  political 
questions  and  prowling  Radical  deputies.  So  her  consent 
was  the  seal  of  the  voyage.  What  she  would  not  consent 
to,  was  the  proposal  to  have  her  finger  ringed  previous  to 
the  voyage,  altogether  in  the  manner  of  a  sailor's  bride. 
She  seemed  to  stipulate  for  a  term   of  courtship.      Nevil 


496  .  _   BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

frankly  told  the  doctor  that  lie  was  not  equal  to  it ;  any- 
thing that  was  kind  he  was  quite  ready  to  say  ;  and  any- 
thing that  was  pretty :  but  nothing  particularly  kind  and 
pretty  occurred  to  him :  he  was  exactly  like  a  juvenile  cor- 
respondent facing  a  blank  sheet  of  letter  paper: — he  really 
did  not  know  what  to  say,  further  than  the  uncomplicated 
exposition  of  his  case,  that  he  wanted  a  wife  and  had  iA^iiud 
the  very  woman.  How,  then,  fathom  Jenny's  mood  for  de- 
laying ?  Dr.  Shrapnel's  exhortations  were  so  worded  as  to 
induce  her  to  comport  herself  like  a  Scriptural  woman, 
humbly  wakeful  to  the  surpassing  splendour  of  the  high 
fortune  which  had  befallen  her  in  being  so  selected,  and 
obedient  at  a  sign  But  she  was,  it  appeared  that  she  was, 
a  maid  of  scaly  vision,  not  perceptive  of  the  blessedness  of 
her  lot.  She  could  have  been  very  little  perceptive,  for  she 
did  not  understand  his  casual  allusion  to  Beauchamp's  readi- 
ness to  overcome  "a  natural  repugnance,"  for  the  purpose  of 
making  her  his  wife. 

Up  to  the  last  moment,  before  Cecilia  Halkett  left  the  deck 
of  the  Esperanza  to  step  on  the  pier,  Jenny  remained  in  vague 
but  excited  expectation  of  something  intervening  to  bring 
Cecilia  and  Beauchamp  together.  It  was  not  a  hope  ;  it  was 
with  pure  suspense  that  she  awaited  the  issue.  Cecilia  w  as 
pale.  Beauchamp  shook  Mr.  Tuckham  by  the  hand,  and 
said:  "I  shall  not  hear  the  bells,  but  send  me  word  of  it, 
will  you  ?"  and  he  wished  them  both  all  happiness. 

The  sails  of  the  schooner  filled.  On  a  fair  frosty  day, 
with  a  light  wind  ruffling  from  the  North- w^est,  she  swept 
away,  out  of  sight  of  Bevisham^  and  the  island,  into  the 
Channel,  to  within  view  of  the  'coast  of  Fitince.  England 
once  below  the  water-line,  alone  witJn  Bea/champyand  Dr. 
Shrapnel,  Jenny  Denham  knew  her  fate. 

As  soon  as  that  grew  distinctly  visible  in  shape  and  colour, 
she  ceased  to  be  reluctant.  All  about  her,  in  air  and  sea 
and  unknown  coast,  was  fresh  and  prompting.  And  if  she 
looked  on  Beauchamp,  the  thought — my  husband!  palpitated, 
and  destro^-ed  and  re-made  her.  Rapidly  she  underwent  her 
transformation  from  doubtfully-minded  woman  to  woman 
awakening  clear-eyed,  and  with  new  sweet  shivers  in  her 
temperate  blood,  like  the  tremulous  light  seen  running  to 
the  morn  upon  a  quiet  sea.  She  fell  under  the  chai  in  of 
Beauchamp  at  sea. 


THE  LAST  OF  ^^evIL  BEAUCHAMP.  497 

In  view  of  tlie  island  of  Madeira,  Jenny  noticed  that  some 
trouble  had  come  upon  Dr.  Shrapnel  and  Beauchamp,  both 
of  whom  liad  been  hilarious  during  the  gales  ;  but  sailing 
into  Summer  they  began  to  wear  that  look  which  indicated 
one  of  their  serious  deliberations.  She  was  not  taken  into 
their  contidence,  and  after  a  while  they  recovered  partially. 

The  truth  was,  they  had  been  forced  back  upon  old  English 
ground  by  a  recognition  of  the  absolute  necessity,  for  her 
sake,  of  handing  themselves  over  to  a  parson.  In  England, 
])Ossibly,  a  civil  marriage  might  have  been  proposed  to  the 
poor  girl.  In  a  foreign  island,  they  would  be  driven  not 
simply  to  accept  the  services  of  a  parson,  but  to  seek  him 
and  solicit  him  :  otherwise  the  knot,  faster  than  any  sailor's 
in  binding,  could  not  be  tied.  Decidedly  it  could  not ;  and 
how  submit  ?  Xeither  Dr.  Shrapnel  nor  Beauchamp  were 
of  a  temper  to  deceive  the  clerical  gentleman ;  only  they  had 
to  think  of  Jenny's  feelings.  Alas  for  us  !— ^-his  our  awful 
baggage  in  the  rear  of  humanity,  these  women  who  have  not 
moved  on  their  own  feet  one  step  since  the  primal  mother 
taught  them  to  suckle,  are  perpetually  pulling  us  backward 
on  the  march.  Slaves  of  custom,  forms,  shows  and  super- 
stitions, they  are  slaves  of  the  priests.  "  They  are  so  in 
gratitude  perchance,  as  the  matter  works,"  Dr.  Shrapnel 
admitted.  For  at  one  period  the  priests  did  cherish  and 
protect  the  weak  from  animal  man.  But  we  have  entered  a 
broader  daylight  now,  when  the  sun  of  high  heaven  has 
crowned  our  structure  with  the  flower  of  bi-ain,  like  him  to 
scatter  mists,  and  penetrate  darkness,  and  shoot  from  end 
to  end  of  earth;  and  must  we  still  be  grinning  subserviently 
to  ancient  usages  and  stale  forms,  because  of  a  baggage  that 
it  is,  woe  to  us !  too  true,  we  cannot  cut  ourselves  loose  from  ? 
Lydiard  might  say  we  are  compelling  the  priests  to  fight, 
and  that  they  are  compact  foemen,  not  always  passive. 
Battle,  then! — The  cry  was  valiant,  l^evertheless,  Jenny 
would  certainly  insist  upon  the  presence  of  a  parson,  in  spite 
of  her  bridegroom's  '  natural  repugnance.'  Dr.  Shrapnel 
offered  to  argue  it  with  her,  being  of  opinion  that  a  British 
oonsul  could  satisfactorily  perform  the  ceremony.  Beau- 
champ knew  her  too  well.  Moreover,  though  tongue-tied 
as  to  love-making,  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  be  married.  Jenny's 
eyes  were  lovely,  her  smiles  were  soft ;  the  fair  promise  of 

2k 


498 

her  was  in  bloom  on  her  face  and  figure.  He  could  not  "wait; 
he  must  off  to  the  parson. 

Then  came  the  question  as  to  whether  honesty  and  honour 
did  not  impose  it  on  them  to  deal  openly  with  that  gentle, 
and  on  such  occasions  unobtrusive  official,  by  means  of  a 
candid  statement  to  him  overnight,  to  the  effect  that  they 
were  the  avowed  antagonists  of  his  Church,  which  would 
put  him  on  his  defence,  and  lead  to  an  argument  that  would 
accomplish  his  overthrow. — You  parsons,  whose  cause  is 
good,  marshal  out  the  poor  of  the  land,  that  we  may  see  the 
sort  of  army  your  stewardship  has  gained  for  3^ou.  What ! 
no  army  ?  only  women  and  hoary  men  ?  And  in  the  rear 
rank,  to  support  you  as  an  institution,  none  but  fanatics, 
cowards,  white-eyeballed  dogmatists,  timcservers,  money- 
changers, mockers  in  their  sleeves  ?     What  is  this  r 

But  the  prospect  of  so  completely  confounding  the  unfor- 
tunate parson  warned  Beauchamp  that  he  might  have  a  shot 
in  his  locker:  the  parson  heavily  trodden  on  will  turn.  "  I 
suppose  we  must  be  hypocrites,"  he  said  in  dejection.  Dr. 
Shrapnel  was  even  more  melancholy.  He  agaia  offered  to 
try  his  persuasiveness  upon  Jenny.  Beauchamp  declined  to 
let  her  be  disturbed. 

She  did  not  yield  so  very  lightly  to  the  invitation  to  go 
before  a  parson.  She  had  to  be  wooed  after  all ;  a  Hai-r^^ 
Hotspur's  wooing.  Three  clergymen  of  the  Established 
Church  were  on  the  island :  "  And  where  won't  tliey  l)e, 
where  there's  fine  scenery  and  comforts  abound  ?"  Beau- 
champ said  to  the  doctor  ungratefully. 

"  Whether  a  celibate  clergy  ruins  the  Faith  faster  than  a 
non-celibate,  I  won't  dispute,"  replied  the  doctor  ;  "  but  a 
non-celibate  interwinds  with  us,  and  is  likely  to  keep  up  a 
one-storied  edifice  longer." 

Jenny  hesitated.  She  was  a  faltering  unit  against  an 
ardent  and  imperative  two  in  the  council.  And  Beauchamp 
had  shown  her  a  letter  of  La^y  Romfrey's  very  clearly  sig- 
nifying that  she  and  her  lord  anticipated  tidings  of  the 
union.  Marrying  Beauchamp  was  no  simple  adventure. 
She  feared  in  her  bosom,  and  resigned  herself. 

She  had  a  taste  of  what  it  was  to  be,  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  service.  Beauchamp  thanked  the  goodnatured  clergy- 
man, and  spoke  approvingly  of  him  to  his  bride,  as  an  agree- 
able well-bred  gentlemanly  person.     Then,  fronting  her  and 


THE  LAST  OF  NEYIL  BEAUCHAMP.  499 

taking  both  her  hands  :  "  ISTow,  mj  darling."  he  said  :  "  You 
must  pledge  me  your  word  to  this  :  I  have  stooped  my  head 
to  the  parson,  and  I  am  content  to  have  done  that  to  win 
you,  though  I  don't  think  much  of  myself  for  doing  it.  I 
can't  look  so  happy  as  I  am.  And  this  idle  CLTemony — how- 
ever, I  thank  God  I  have  you,  and  I  thank  you  for  taking 
me.  But  you  won't  expect  me  to  give  in  to  the  parson 
again." 

"  But,  N^evil,"  she  said,  fearing  what  was  to  come  :  "  They  1 
are  gentlemen,  good  men."  ' 

"  Yes,  yes." 

"  They  are  educated  men,  Nevil." 

"Jenny!  Jenny  Beauchamp,  they're  not  men,  they're 
Churchmen.  My  experience  of  the  priest  in  our  country  is, 
that  he  has  abandoned — he's  dead  against  the  only  cause 
that  can  justify  and  keep  up  a  Church  :  the  cause  of  the 
poor — the  people.  He  is  a  creature  of  the  moneyed  class.  I 
look  on  him  as  a  pretender.  I  go  through  his  forms,  to 
save  my  wife  from  annoyance,  but  there's  the  end  of  it :  and 
if  ever  I'm  helpless,  unable  to  resist  him,  I  rely  on  your 
word  not  to  let  him  intrude  ;  he's  to  have  nothing  to  do  with 
the  burial  of  me.  He's  against  the  cause  of  the  people. 
Very  well :  I  make  my  protest  to  the  death  against  him. 
When  he's  a  Christian  instead  of  a  Churchman,  then  may 
my  example  not  be  followed.  It's  little  use  looking  for 
that." 

Jenny  dropped  some  tears  on  her  bridal  day.  She  sighed 
her  submission.     "  So  long  as  you  do  not  change,"  said  she. 

"Change!"  cried  Nevil.  "That's  for  the  parson.  iSTow 
it's  over :  we  start  fair.  My  dai-ling  !  I  ha\  e  you.  I  don't 
mean  to  bother  you.  I'm  sure  you'll  see  that  the  enemies  of 
Reason  are  the  enemies  of  the  human  race  ;  you  will  see 
that.     I  can  wait." 

"  If  we  can  be  sure  that  we  ourselves  are  using  reason 
rightly,  Nevil ! — not  prejudice." 

"  Of  course.  But  don't  you  see,  my  Jenny,  we  have  no 
interest  in  opposing  reason  ?"' 

"But  have  we  not  all  grown  up  together?  And  is  it  just 
or  wise  to  direct  our  efforts  to  over  hrow  a  solid  structure 
that  is  a  part   ...?'" 

He  put  his  legal  right  in  force  to  shut  her  mouth,  telling 
her    presently   she  might  Lydiardize  as  much  as  she  liked. 


500  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEEE. 

While  practising'  this  mastery,  he  assured  her  lie  would 
always  listen  to  her  :  yes,  whether  she  Lydiardized,  or  what 
Dr.  Shrapnel  called  Jennyprated. 

"  That  is  to  say,  dear  l^evil,  that  yon  have  quite  made  up 
your  mind  to  a  toddling  chattering  little  nursery  wife  ?" 

Very  much  the  contrary  to  anything  of  tha  sort,  he 
declared ;  and  he  proved  his  honesty  by  announcing  an 
immediate  reflection  that  had  come  to  him  :  "  How  oddly 
things  are  settled  !  Cecilia  Halkett  and  Tuckham ;  you 
and  I !  Now,  I  know  for  certain  that  I  have  brought  Cecilia 
Halk^'t  OTit  of  her  woman's  Tor^dsm,  and  given  her  at 
least  liberal  views,  and  she  goes  and  marries  an  arrant 
Tory ;  while  yon,  a  bit  of  a  Tory  at  heart,  more  than  any- 
thing else,  have  married  an  ultra." 

"  Perhaps  we  may  hope  that  the  conflict  will  be  season- 
able on  both  sides  ? — if  you  give  me  fair  play,  Nevil !" 

As  fair  play  as  a  woman's  lord  could  give  her,  she  was  to 
have ;  with  which,  adieu  to  argumentation  and  controversy, 
and  all  the  thanks  in  life  to  the  parson  !  On  a  lovely 
island,  free  from  the  seductions  of  care,  possessing  a  wife 
who,  instead  of  starting  out  of  romance  and  poetry  with  him 
to  the  supreme  honeymoon,  led  him  back  to  those  forsaken 
valleys  of  his  youth,  and  taught  him  the  joys  of  coloui'  and 
sweet  companionship,  gimple  delights,  a  sister  mind,  with  a 
loveliness  of  person  and  nature  unimagined  by  him,  Beau- 
champ  drank  of  a  happiness  that  neither  Renee  nor  Cecilia 
had  promised.  His  wooing  of  Jenny  Beauchamp  was  a 
flattery  I'icher  than  any  the  maiden  Jenny  Denham  could 
have  deemed  her  due  ;  and  if  his  wonder  in  experiencing 
such  strange  gladness  was  quaintly  ingenuous,  it  was  deli- 
cious to  her  to  see  and  know  full  surely  that  he  who  was 
at  little  pains  to  court,  or  please,  independently  of  the 
urgency  of  the  truth  in  him,  had  come  to  be  her  lover 
through  being  her  husband. 

Here  I  would  stop.  It  is  Beauehamp's  career  that  carries 
me  on  to  its  close,  where  the  lanterns  throw  their  beams 
off  the  mudbanks  by  the  black  riverside ;  when  some  few 
English  men  and  women  differed  from  the  world  in  think- 
ing that  it  had  suffered  a  loss. 

Thev  sorrowed  for  the  earl  when  tidings  came  to  them  of 


I 


THE  LAST  OF  NEVIL  BEAUCHAMP.  501 

the  loss  of  his  child,  alive  one  hoar  in  his  arms.  Rosamund 
caused  them  to  be  deceived  as  to  her  condition.  She  sur- 
vived ;  she  wrote  to  Jenny,  bidding  her  keep  her  husband 
cruising.  Lord  E/Omfrey  added  a  brief  word  :  he  told  Nevil 
that  he  woald  see  no  one  for  the  present ;  hoped  he  would 
be  absent  a  year,  not  a  day  less.  To  render  it  the  more 
easily  practicable,  in  the  next  packet  of  letters  Colonel 
Halkett  and  Cecilia  begged  them  not  to  bring  the  Esperanza 
home  for  the  yachting  season  :  the  colonel  said  his  daughter 
was  to  be  manued  in  April,  and  that  bridegroom  and  bi-ide 
had  consented  to  take  an  old  man  off  with  them  to  Italy  ; 
perhaps  in  the  autumn  all  might  meet  in  Venice. 

"And  you've  never  seen  Venice,"  Beauchamp  said  to 
Jenny. 

"  Everything  is  new  to  me,"  said  she,  penetrating  and 
gladly  joining  the  conspiracy  to  have  him  out  of  England. 

Dr.  Shrapnel  was  not  so  compliant  as  the  young  husband- 
Where  he  coald  land  and  botanize,  as  at  Madeira,  he  let 
time  fly  and  drum  his  wings  on  air,  but  the  cities  of  priests 
along  the  coast  of  Portugal  and  Spain  roused  him  to  a  burn- 
ing sense  of  that  flight  of  time  and  the  vacuity  it  told  of  in 
his  labours.  Greatly  to  his  astonishment,  he  found  that  it 
was  no  longer  he  and  Beauchamp  against  Jenny,  but  Jenny 
and  Beauchamp  against  him. 

"  What !"  he  cried,  "to  draw  breath  day  by  day,  and  not 
to  pay  for  it  by  striking  daily  at  the  rock  Iniquity  ?  Are 
you  for  that,  Beauchamp  ?  And  in  a  land  where  these 
priests  walk  with  hats  curled  like  the  water-lily's  leaf  with- 
out the  flower  ?  How  far  will  you  push  indolent  unreason 
to  gain  the  delusion  of  happiness  ?  There  is  no  such  thing  : 
but  there's  trance.  That  talk  of  happiness  is  a  carrion 
clamour  of  the  creatures  of  prey.  Take  it — and  you're 
helping  tear  some  poor  wretch  to  pieces,  whom  you  might 
be  constructing,  saving  perchance  :  some  one  ?  some  thou- 
sands !  You,  Beauchamp,  when  I  met  you  first,  you  were 
for  England,  England  !  for  a  breadth  of  the  palm  of  my 
hand  comparatively — the  round  of  a  copper  penny,  no 
wider  !  And  from  that  ^'ou  jumped  at  a  bound  to  the  round 
of  this  earth  :  you  were  for  humanity.  Ay,  we  sailed  our 
planet  among  the  icy  spheres,  and  were  at  blood-heat  for  Ils 
destiny,  you  and  I !  And  now  you  hover  for  a  wind  to 
catch  you.     So  it  is  for  a  soul  rejecting  pra\er.     This  wind 


502  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAEEER. 

and  that  has  it :  the  wellsprings  within  are  shut  down  fast ! 
I  pardon  my  Jenny,  my  Harry  Denham's  girl.  She  is  a 
woman,  and  has  a  brain  like  a  bell  that  rings  all  round  to 
the  tongue.  It  is  her  kingdom,  of  the  interdicted  untra- 
versed  frontiers.  But  what  cares  she,  or  any  Avoman,  th;it 
this  Age  of  oui'S  should  lie  like  a  carcase  against  the  Sun  ? 
What  cares  any  woman  to  help  to  hold  up  Life  to  him  ? 
He  breeds  divinely  upon  life,  filthy  upon  stagnation.  Sail 
you  away,  if  you  will,  in  your  trance.  I  go.  I  go  home  by 
land  alone,  and  I  await  you.  Here  in  this  land  of  moles 
upright,  I  do  naught  but  execrate  ;  I  am  a  pulpit  of  curses. 
Counter-anathema,  you  might  call  me." 

"  Oh !  I  feel  the  comparison  so,  for  England  shining 
spiritually  bright,"  said  Jenm',  and  cut  her  husband  adrift 
with  the  exclamation,  and  saw  him  float  away  to  Dr.  Shrap- 
nel. 

"  Spiritually  bi-ight !" 

"  By  comparison,  Xevil." 

"  There's  neither  spii-itual  nor  political  brightness  in  Eng- 
land, but  a  common  resolution  to  eat  of  good  things  and 
stick  to  them,"  said  the  doctor:  "  and  we  two  out  of  England, 
there's  barely  a  voice  to  cry  scare  to  the  feeders.  I'm  back ! 
I'm  home !" 

They  lost  him  once  in  Cadiz,  and  discovered  him  on  the 
quay,  looking  about  for  a  vessel.  In  getting  him  to  return 
to  the  Esperanza,  they  nearly  all  three  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  police.  Beauchamp  gave  him  a  gi-eat  deal  of  his  time, 
reading  and  discussing  with  him  on  deck  and  in  the  cabin, 
and  projecting  future  enterprises,  to  pacify  his  restlessness. 
A  translation  of  Plato  had  become  Beauchamp's  intellectual 
world.  This  philosopher  singularly  anticipated  his  ideas. 
Concerning  himself  he  was  beginning  to  think  that  he  had 
many  years  ahead  of  him  for  work.  He  was  with  Dr. 
Shrapnel  as  to  the  battle,  and  with  Jenny  as  to  the  delay  in 
recommencing  it.  Both  the  men  laughed  at  the  constant 
employment  she  gave  them  among  the  Greek  island-;  in 
furnishing  her  severely  accurate  accounts  of  sea-fights  and 
land-fights  :  and  the  scenes  being  before  them  they  could 
neither  of  them  protest  that  their  task-work  was  an  idle 
labour.  Dr.  Shrapnel  assisted  in  fighting  Marathon  and 
Salamis  over  again  cordially — to  shield  Great  Britain  from 
the  rule  of  a  satrapy.  ^ 


-,  THE  LAST  OF  Ts^EVIL  BEAUCHAMP.  503 

JBeauchamp  often  tried  to  conjure  words  to  paint  his  wife. 

'H  grave  subjects  slie  had  the  manner  of  speaking  of  a  shy 

cholar,  and  between  grave  and  phij'ful,  between  sraih'ng  and 

erious,  her  clear  head,  her  nobly-poised  character,  seemed 

1  him  to  have  never  had  a  prototype  and  to  elude  the  art  of 

icturing  it  in  expression,  until  he  heard  Lydiard  call  her 

vhimsically,  "  Portia  disrobing  I'HPoi'tia  half  in  her  doctor's 

;'own,    half   out    of   it.      They    met    Lydiard    and    his    wife 

jouise,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tuekham,  in  Venice,  where,  upon 

he  first  day  of  October,  Jenny  Beauchamp  gave  birth  to  a 

on.     The  thrilling  mother  did  not  perceive  on  this  occasion 

the  gloom  she   cast  over  the  father  of  the  child   and  Dr. 

Shrapnel.     The  youngster  would  insist  on  his  right  to  be 

sprinkled  by  the  parson,  to  get  a  legal  name  and  please  his 

mother.     At  all  turns  in  the  history  of  our  health}'  relations 

with  women  we  are  confronted  by  the  parsr»n  !     "  And,  upon 

my  word,  I  believe,"  Beauchamp   said  to   Lydiard,   "  those 

parsons — not  bad  creatures  in  private  life  :  there  was  one  in 

Madeira  I  took   a   personal  liking   to — but  they're  utterly 

ignorant   of   what  men   feel   to   them — more    ignorant   than 

women!"     ^h\  Tuekham  and  Mrs.  Lydiard  would  not  listen 

to  his  foolish   objections ;  nor  were  they  ever  mentioned  to 

Jenny.     Apparently  the  commission   of  the  act  of  marriage 

was  to  force  Beauchamp  from  all  his  positions  one  by  one. 

"  The  education  of  that  child  f "  Mrs.  Lydiard  said  to  her 
husband. 

He  considered  that  the  mother  would  prevail. 
Cecilia  feared  she  would  not. 

"  Depend  upon  it,  he'll  make  himself  miserable  if  he  can," 
said  Tuekham. 

That  gentleman,  however,  was  perpetually  coming  fuming 
from  arguments  with  Beauchamp,  and  his  opinion  was  a 
controversialist's.  His  common  sense  was  much  afflicted. 
"  I  thought  marriage  would  have  stopped  all  those  absur- 
dities," he  said,  glaring  angi-ily,  laughing,  and  then  frowning. 
"  I've  warned  him  I'll  go  out  of  my  way  to  come  across  him 
if  he  carries  on  this  headlong  folly.  A  man  should  accept 
his  country  for  what  it  is  when  he's  born  into  it.  Don't  tell 
me  he's  a  good  fellow.  I  know  he  is,  but  there's  an  ass 
mounted  on  the  good  fellow.  Talks  of  the  parsons  !  Why, 
they're  men  of  education." 

"  They  couldn't  steer  a  ship  in  a  gale,  though." 


504  BEAUCHAMP'S  CAREER. 

"  Oil !  lie's  a  good  sailor.     And  let  him  go  to  sea,"  sai 
Tuckliam.     "  His  wife's  a  prize.    He's  hardly  worthy  of  he. . 
If  she  manages  him  she'll  deserve  a  monument  for  doing- 
public  service." 

How  fortunate  it  is  for  us  that  here  and  there  we  do  n 
succeed  in  wresting  our  temporary  treasure  from  the  grasp 
of  the  Fates ! 

This  good  old  commonplace  reflection  came  to  Beauchamp 
while  clasping  his  wife's  hand  on  the  deck  of  the  Esperanza, 
and  looking  up  at  the  mountains  over  the  Gulf  of  Venice. 
The  impression  of  that  mai-vellous  dawn  when  he  and  Renee 
looked  up  hand-in-hand  was  ineffaceable,  and  pity  for  the 
tender  hand  lost  to  him  wrought  in  his  blood,  but  Jenny  was 
a  peerless  wife  ;  and  though  not  in  the  music  of  her  tongue 
or  in  subtlety  of  delicate  meaning  did  she  excel  Rence,  as  r 
sober  adviser  she  did,  and  as  a  tii-ni  speaker  ;  and  she  hat 
homelier  deep  eyes,  thoughtfuller  brows.  The  father  coulu 
speculate  with  good  hope  of  Jenny's  child.  Cecilia's  wealth, 
too,  had  gone  over  to  the  Tory  party,  with  her  incompre- 
hensible espousal  of  Tuckham.  Let  it  go ;  let  all  go  for 
dowerless  Jenny ! 

It  was  (she  dared  to  recollect  it  in  her  anguish)  Jenny's 
choice  to  go  home  in  the  yacht  that  decided  her  husband  not 
to  make  the  journey  by  land  in  company  with  the  Lydiards. 

The  voyage  was  favourable.  Beauchamp  had  a  passing 
wish  to  land  on  the  JSTorman  coast,  and  take  Jenny  for  a  day 
to  Tourdestclle.  He  deferred  to  her  desire  to  land  baby 
speedily,  nov/  they  were  so  near  home.  They  ran  past  Otley 
river,  having  sight  of  Mount  Laurels,  and  on  to  Bevisham, 
with  swelling  sails.  There  they  parted.  Beauchamp  made 
it  one  of  his  '  points  of  honour '  to  deliver  the  vessel  where 
he  had  taken  her,  at  her  moorings  in  the  Otley.  One  of  the 
piermen  stood  before  Beauchamp,  and  saluting  him,  said  he 
had  been  directed  to  inform  him  that  the  Earl  of  Romfrey 
was  with  Colonel  Halkett,  expecting  him  at  Mount  Laurels. 
Beauchamp  wanted  his  wife  to  return  in  the  yacht.  She 
turned  her  eyes  to  Dr.  Shrapnel.  It  was  out  of  the  question 
that  the  doctor  should  think  of  going.  Husband  and  wife 
parted.     She  saw  him  no  more. 

This  is  no  time  to  tell  of  weeping.     The  dry  chronicle  is 


THE  LAST  OF  NEVIL  BEAtJCHAMP.  505 

;,ist.     Hard  on  nine  o'clock  in  the  December  darkness,  the 

-    ^ht  being  still  and  clear,  Jenny's  babe  Avas  at  her  breast, 

n^d  her  ears  were  awake  for  the  return  of  her  husband.     A 

L  rang  at  the  door  of  the  house,  and  asked   to   see  Dr. 

■apnel.  This  man  was  Killick,  the  Radical  Sam  of  politics. 

J  said  to  the  doctor:   "I'm  going  to   hit  you  sharp,  sir; 

i'  ve  had  it  myself:  please  put  on  your  hat  and  come  out 

with  me  ;  and  close   the   door.     They  mustn't  hear  inside. 

.±nd  here's  a  fly.      I  knew  you'd  be  off  for  the  finding  of  the 

body.     Commander  Beauchamp's  drowned." 

Dr.  Shrapnel  drove  round  by  the  shore  of  the  broad  water 
past  a  gi^eat  hospital  and  rained  abbey  to  Otley  village, 
villick  had  lifted  him  into  the  conveyance,  and  he  lifted 
/lim  out.  Dr.  Shi-apnel  had  not  spoken  a  word.  Lights 
were  flaring  on  the  river,  illuminating  the  small  craft  som- 
brely. Men,  women,  and  children  crowded  the  hard  and 
landing-places,  the  marsh}^  banks  and  the  decks  of  colliers 
and  trawlers.  Xeither  Killick  nor  Dr.  Shrapnel  questioned 
them.  The  lights  were  torches  and  lanterns ;  the  occupa- 
tion of  the  boats  moving  in  couples  was  the  dragging  for 
the  dead. 

"  O  God,  let's  find  his  body,"  a  woman  called  out. 

"  Just  a  word  ;  is  it  Commander  Beauchamp  ?"  Killick 
said  to  her. 

She  was  scarcely  aware  of  a  question.  "  Here,  this  one," 
she  said,  and  plucked  a  little  boy  of  eight  by  the  hand  close 
against  her  side,  and  shook  him  roughly  and  kissed  him. 

An  old  man  volunteered  information.  "  That's  the  boy. 
That  boy  was  in  his  father's  boat  out  there,  with  two  of  his 
brothers,  larking ;  and  he  and  another  older  than  him  fell 
overboard  ;  and  just  then  Commander  Beauchamp  was  row- 
ing by,  and  I  saw  him  from  off  here,  where  I  stood,  jump  up 
and  dive,  and  he  swam  to  his  boat  with  one  of  them  and  got 
him  in  safe  :  that  boy  :  and  he  dived  again  after  the  other, 
and  was  down  a  long  time.  Either  he  burst  a  vessel  or  he 
got  cramp,  for  he'd  been  rowing  himself  from  the  schooner 
grounded  down  at  the  river-mouth,  and  must  have  been  hot 
when  he  junijDed  in  :  either  way,  he  fetched  the  second  up, 
and  sank  with  him.     Down  he  went." 

A  fisherman  said  to  Killick  :  "  Do  you  hear  that  voice 
thundering  ?     That's  the  great  Lord  Romfrej.     He's  beeu 

2   L 


506  BEAUCHAMP's  CAREER. 

directing  the  dragging  since  five  o'  the  evening,  and  will  til] 
lie  drops  or  drowns,  or  up  comes  the  body/' 

"  0  God,  let's  find  the  bodj !"  the  wo  .lan  with  the  little 
boj  called  out. 

A  torch  lit  up  Lord  Romfrey's  face  as  he  stepped  ashore. 
"  The  flood  has  playei  us  a  trick,"  he  said.  '■  We  waul 
more  drag.^,  or  with  the  next  ebb  the  body  may  be  lost  for 
days  in  this  infernal  water." 

The  mother  of  the  rescued  boy  sobbed,  "  Oh,  my  lord,  my 
lord  !" 

The  earl  caught  sight  of  Dr.  Shrapnel,  and  went  to  him. 

"  My  wife  has  gone  down  to  Mrs.  Beauchamp,"  be  said. 
"  She  will  bring  her  and  the  baby  to  Mount  Laurels.  Tlu' 
child  will  hav^e  to  be  hand-fed.  I  take  you  with  me.  You 
must  not  be  alone." 

He  put  his  arm  within  the  arm  of  tlie  heavily-breathiir^- 
man  whom  he  had  once  flung  to  the  ground,  to  support  him. 

"My  lord  !  my  lord  !"  sobbed  the  woman,  and  dropped  on 
her  knees. 

"  What's  this  ?"  the  earl  said,  drawing  his  hand  away 
from  the  woman's  clutch  at  it. 

"  She's  the  mother,  my  lord,"  several  explained  to  him. 

"Mother  of  what  r" 

*'  My  boy,"  the  woman  cried,  and  dragged  the  urchin  to 
Lord  itomfrey's  feet,  cleitfiing  her  boy's  face  with  her  apron. 

"  It's  tlie  boy  Commander  Beauchamp  drowned  to  save," 
said  a  man. 

All  the  lights  of  the  ring  were  turned  on  the  head  of  the 
boy.  Dr.  Shrapnel's  eyes  and  Lord  Romfrey's  fell  on  thf 
abashed  little  creature.  The  boy  stru".k  out  both  ai-ras  to 
get  his  fists  against  his  eyelids. 

This  is  what  we  have  in  exchange  for  Beauchamp  ! 

It  was  not  uttered,  but  it  was  visible  in  the  blank  stare 
at  one  another  of  the  two  men  who  loved  Beauchamp,  after 
they  had  examined  the  insignificant  bit  of  mudbank  life 
remaining  in  this  world  in  the  pUice  of  him. 


TEE  END. 


I 


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\|: 


SEP    14  1944 


SEP2^15i? 


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Beauchamp's  career 


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NIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  UBRAR\ 


